


That Feeling of Déjà Vu

by Sontalia



Series: The Girl That Fell Through Time [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Lesbian Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Chronal Disassociation, Cute, F/F, Femslash, Flirting, Lesbian Sex, Mature Chapters are Labelled and Skippable, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Romantic Fluff, Self-Doubt, Sexual Tension, Slipstream Incident (Overwatch), Speedy Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 61,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25231549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sontalia/pseuds/Sontalia
Summary: The Overwatch Headquarters has a ghost. A spunky British pilot, wreathed in an ethereal blue light, trapped just outside of the real world by an experimental flight gone horribly wrong. But her loved ones would never leave her to suffer, and they will rescue her from her prison, even if it means rewriting the known laws of physics to do so.For Angela, the last few months were guilt-ridden and tragic, with every mistake and betrayal digging her deeper into her spiral of depression.But that was nothing compared to the nightmare that Lena had been suffering. Her entire world was torn from her, forcing her to spend untold time in complete isolation, with little apart from her own thoughts to keep her company.Can they help each other pick up the pieces and return to their former selves, even as Overwatch begins to crumble around them?
Relationships: Angela "Mercy" Ziegler & Winston, Emily & Lena "Tracer" Oxton, Emily/Lena "Tracer" Oxton (mentioned), Genji Shimada & Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Lena "Tracer" Oxton & Winston, Lena "Tracer" Oxton/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison (mentioned), Torbjörn Lindholm & Reinhardt Wilhelm
Series: The Girl That Fell Through Time [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707826
Comments: 40
Kudos: 67





	1. Disbelief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, part 3 of the series! If you are just checking this out for the first time, welcome :) I do recommend you check out parts 1 and 2 for context, but you should still be able to understand what is happening without them. And of course, welcome back to everyone else too! I never thought this fic would get as much attention as it has, being a less popular ship and all, but thank you so much for the support!

At first, Angela told no one what she had seen.

How would that conversation have gone anyway?

_‘By the way, last night I had a vision of my dead girlfriend while depressed and drunk.’_

_Yeah, right. Have fun in your insane asylum._

How could she even expect anyone else to believe her when she wasn’t sure if she believed herself?

She did _not_ believe in ghosts, and she was definitely not about to reevaluate her entire outlook on the supernatural because of one half-remembered night of drinking.

But what else could it have been?

There was no way Angela’s mental state was so poor that she had started imagining things… Was there? It was completely unlike her. After all, the doctor had always prided herself on her ability to prevent her own emotions or personal attachments from clouding her judgement.

But with everything that she had been through in the past few months, who was to say she _wasn’t_ going crazy? It was already bad enough that she had given in to the temptation to drink her problems away, but now she found herself in the situation where she was trying to decide whether or not she had _imagined the ghost of her girlfriend._

So instead, Angela did what she always did when she wanted to avoid complicated questions: she tried to drown herself in work. There was nothing like a nice, long shift in Overwatch’s medical bay to keep her from thinking about Lena, or Amélie, or even that dwindling trust in her own sanity.

Over the next few days, Angela’s shifts became longer and longer. Knowing she would not find sleep even if she tried, she began to take on the other doctors’ work just to keep herself busy well into the night. Even during mealtimes, she still read documents or reports, no matter how dry they might be, because she would do _anything_ not to be alone with her own thoughts.

Surprisingly, she was successful for a while. The memory of Lena’s face, glowing blue in the darkness, was still burned into her mind, but with enough effort, she managed to keep it from invading her thoughts too frequently.

Days turned into a week, and by then, Angela had almost managed to convince herself that the entire memory was just a delusion brought on by inebriation and exhaustion. It didn’t matter how familiar their interactions were, or how much she missed the beautiful brunette, because what had happened was not real.

She had told herself that so frequently, that when that blue glow finally reappeared, she did not even look up at first. But then it registered in her mind, and she was so overcome with emotion that she almost let out a sob when she raised her eyes to the heart-wrenching gaze of Lena Oxton, the very same woman who was lost to the Slipstream all those months ago.

Lena did not even seem to realize that the doctor could see her, and was merely sitting across from Angela, watching her work with a longing gaze, full of sadness and regret. Even though Tracer vanished as quickly as she had appeared, flickering out with a small flash of light, Angela felt all the confidence she had built up over the past days disappear in that same instant.

As much as she could tell herself she wasn’t crazy, she didn’t know if her own thoughts could be trusted anymore.

A war ignited in her mind, and through all her thoughts, one became rather clear: she had to tell someone what she had seen. Preferably Winston. Bottling everything up was not healthy, and if Winston thought she was losing her mind, he would at least be civil about it.

* * *

_Meanwhile:_

Winston groaned in frustration, slumping down in his chair as yet another adjustment yielded no results, the computer before him remaining as dark and silent as ever.

If it were just an isolated incident, Winston would have simply passed it off as a malfunction and ordered a new one. But it was not. For the past few weeks, electrical devices all around the base, from remote controls to supercomputers, had been experiencing failures with _alarming_ frequency.

And Winston was at his wits’ end to try and prevent them.

At first, he had thought it was just an isolated power surge that had burned out some fuses and circuit boards. There were more than enough fried wires for that to be true. But that would not account for the way things _continued_ failing, regardless of their surge protectors, even now that he had installed more than enough extra sensors to pick up any variations in power.

When even his most precise electromagnetic sensors also failed to pick up any kind of irregularity, Winston had broken out his most advanced sensors: ones he only used to measure conditions for his most theoretical experiments. In the end, he hardly knew whether to be surprised or not when he picked up on a _chronometric_ disturbance.

Those kinds of disturbances were not unheard of, but they were always small-scale and rarely lasted more than a few seconds. But this one was massive by comparison, and it did not seem to be going away anytime soon.

So he was _trying_ to develop a phase modulator to correct for the temporal flux, but for now, he had to contend with the constant electrical shorts and burned-out circuits. It really was annoying, though, especially when something particularly important gave out. Last night, he had even backed up all of Athena’s files, just to make sure that nothing would happen to her if her hardware were struck by a similar failure.

The most frustrating part of all, though, was how familiar it seemed. A temporal variance of 0.52 milliseconds. He had seen that number before… somewhere. But where?

He sighed, taking another scoop of peanut butter and munching on it absentmindedly. He was getting nowhere by feeling sorry for himself. Gathering himself, he picked up his set of pliers and returned to work.

Only to drop them in surprise at the loud knock that sounded at his door.

He had not been expecting visitors, and briefly wondered who it could be as he tucked his shirt in and made himself look vaguely presentable.

His question was quickly answered as he saw the familiar blond woman that was waiting for him, looking stressed.

It was Dr Ziegler. One of his best friends at the base, and probably the only person besides Torbjörn that could actually keep up when he got excited about some engineering problem or another. And, he suddenly realized with a surge of guilt, a friend that he had seen very little since Amélie Lacroix had disappeared for the second time.

He really did not mean to neglect her, but with the number of glitches that had been popping up recently, he never even realized how badly Angela must be taking the loss of her best friend. He should have been there for her.

Winston waved the doctor inside, pulling a human-sized chair from behind a pile of old, scrapped contraptions and wiping it clean of dust for her. Shakily, she accepted the proffered furniture item, and took a seat, which allowed Winston the chance to finally see her wide, apprehensive eyes and the dried tracks of tears on her cheeks.

He felt another surge of guilt, wishing he had tried to communicate with his friend days ago. Maybe he could have saved her some of the pain that was so clearly written across her features. He wanting to ask her what was wrong, but he knew she would tell him when she was ready, so instead he pulled her into a warm, encouraging hug. Immediately, the doctor sank into the embrace, burying her face in his shirt.

When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet and muffled, as if she were afraid of the words leaving her mouth. “Winston,” she mumbled. “Am I going crazy?”

The gorilla pulled back in surprise, his hands remaining on the doctor’s shoulders as he looked her in the eyes. “What brought this on, Angela? You’re one of the sanest people I know.”

Angela looked up at him, her eyes a sea of uncertainty and pain, and the big gorilla felt another painful stab in his chest at the sight.

“I saw Lena,” she said. “Once a few nights ago, then again in my office.”

“It isn’t crazy to look at a picture of a loved one, you know. No one is expecting you to get over her immediately,” he replied with an encouraging smile.

But when she shook her head, Winston finally realized what she meant and almost _recoiled_ in shock. “Oh… you mean… Excuse me, what?!” he coughed.

“I… um… she was in the hangar, but… she was blue and… and glowing… and what do I do, Winston?” she cried, all her pent-up emotions coming out at once. “I saw her again a few minutes ago, too. Please tell me I’m not going crazy…”

Her eyes searched Winston for some kind of reassurance, but he was still trying not to choke as he looked at her incredulously. “Um… can you,” he coughed again, “Can you start again? What do you mean, _you saw her?_ In a dream? Or uh… in reality?”

Angela’s face seemed to fall even farther. She began to look away, her eyes misting. “I don’t think I was asleep,” she said quietly. “She was just _there_. Almost like a ghost. We even talked for a few minutes, but she kept sort of stuttering? She kept appearing and disappearing, and she was _so glad_ that I could see her, and I didn’t realize how much I missed her, and… I… I don’t know what to think.”

It took him another moment or two, but Winston managed to recover from his shock, and he swallowed heavily, then pulled her back into their hug. “I don’t think you’re crazy,” he said truthfully.

Just the fact that she was self-aware enough to even ask him the question was plenty of support for that conclusion. She had lost people before, and there was no way she was just seeing things.

_But seriously, what?!_

If she wasn’t making it up, then what could it be?

Maybe it was just a cruel prank: someone with a holoprojector and way too much time on their hands. Winston almost shuddered at the thought that there could be someone so heartless as to do such a thing. But it was the most likely possibility.

That or Angela somehow fell asleep without realizing it, and just dreamed the whole thing. She certainly _looked_ exhausted enough.

Maybe that was all she needed: a good night’s rest. Everything was easier to face without the daze brought on by sleep deprivation. But she just needed to actually _sleep_ for once, not just lay in her bed with her thoughts. For that, he needed to convince her that she was, in fact, perfectly coherent, and that they could deal with everything tomorrow.

“You actually believe me?” Angela asked, and Winston nodded sincerely.

“I can tell you aren’t lying, and the fact that you are questioning it yourself shows me you aren’t delusional,” he replied, glad to see a small amount of the tension leave her shoulders.

It wasn’t a lot, but it was progress.

“There could have been something you didn’t see,” he continued, rubbing her back comfortingly. “Maybe it was a holoprojector, or maybe it was an active camouflage of some kind that someone used to look like her. I don’t know who could be cold enough to do something like that, but it’s a possibility.”

Winston was delighted to see the tension continue to drain from his friend as she became more and more hopeful that there could be some explanation for the phenomenon aside from her imagination.

“I’ll check around those places tomorrow,” he added as she pulled back from their embrace, wiping at her eyes. “I’ll see if I can find any evidence of why she might have appeared. Until then, I suggest you get a good night’s rest.”

“But…” she began, except she was cut off by the insistent gorilla.

“No excuses. When was the last time you slept properly? A month ago? Maybe more? Prescribe yourself some sleeping medication if you have to, but I want you to be rested tomorrow, alright?”

Even though she could see the sense in what he was saying, the doctor still looked like she wanted to protest, but Winston was having none of that. “I promise I’ll wait for you before going to look for anything. Don’t make me have security escort you to your quarters. I swear, doctors make the _worst_ patients,” he grumbled, hoping the light teasing would have the desired effect.

And surprisingly, it did. Angela huffed, but she eventually gave in, turning around to leave the workshop. “Alright. I’ll do it,” she said.

Winston was speechless. He had not expected that convincing the normally stubborn doctor would be so easy. She really must have been _exhausted_.

But before she left, she turned around once more, locking eyes with the gorilla, who had returned to his seat to get back to work. “And thank you, Winston,” she said sincerely, her face still hesitant and uncertain, but looking much better than when she entered. “Thank you for everything.”

And with that she was gone, leaving the other scientist still feeling guilty about not having been there for her sooner.

* * *

That night, Winston was the one that was struggling to find sleep. He was sure that with how tired Angela was, it would have only taken an insomnia pill or two before she was out like a light. But for him, the questions of the day were fresh in his mind, and more insistent than ever. There was _some kind of connection,_ but he just couldn’t put a finger on it.

He sat, his legs hanging off the side of his hammock as he thought, his toothbrush hanging temporarily-forgotten in his mouth.

It was ironic, how both he and Angela were driving themselves crazy about something from their past coming back to haunt them. Winston with that blasted temporal variance that he _knew_ he had seen before. And Angela with… Lena.

_Hold on._

Suddenly, he remembered why the number was familiar. That was the number from the day Lena died. It was plastered on a dozen different error screens, all frozen in their final warning after their connection was lost when the Slipstream’s core destabilized. A temporal variance of 0.52 milliseconds: it was the reason the experiment had failed and the reason teleportation research was put on an indefinite hold. The reason he had lost one of his best friends.

How could he have forgotten?

And now, some… after-image of Lena was appearing around the base, just about the same time that he had started detecting the exact same variance.

There was no way that was a coincidence.

Winston stood up suddenly, suddenly filled with energy as the thoughts coalesced to their logical conclusion. One as intriguing as it was terrifying.

_What if… that wasn’t just a projection? What if… it was actually Lena?_

_What if she never teleported at all, but the Slipstream’s engines pushed her just outside of their reality? Just far enough that she could not interact with them, but close enough that the extra energy was still frying computers all over the base._

And if that was true… it meant… Lena was not dead.

She was just… out of phase.

Ignoring Athena’s protests about the health risks of his sleep schedule, Winston all but sprinted from his quarters back to the workshop.

Lena was _alive_. To bring her back, all she needed was a little push in the right direction, and with a few modifications, he had a device that just might be able to provide it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie, I was a little surprised to find out that the Archive didn't already have a tag for friendship between Mercy and Winston, because I always saw them as quite good friends. I really hope I'm not alone with that.
> 
> And I'm sorry this chapter didn't really have any Tracer in it, I just thought it wouldn't make a lot of sense for Angela to just accept what she had seen at face value. I would struggle to believe my eyes too!
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you thought! I'm not quite sure about how this chapter turned out, to be honest, but if you liked it, I'd love to hear any comments you might have! And of course, kudos are much appreciated as well :)


	2. Stabilization

Angela blinked awake, the brightness of the winter sunlight steadily bringing her back to consciousness. Outside, fresh snow rested in layers over the Swiss Headquarters, still pristine and untouched and sparkling in the early morning light.

 _‘Winston was right,’_ Angela thought gratefully, realizing just how long it had been since she had slept properly. She made a mental note to thank him later. She really had needed it.

But then, predictably, the bliss of a restful night faded as her other thoughts returned in a rush.

_Lena would have loved a morning like this._

Angela felt her eyes moisten, but she stopped herself. She would not cry again. She was past that. She would find Winston, and they would get to the bottom of this.

With that thought in mind, after taking her morning shower and getting dressed, Angela made her way to the workshop, knowing that the gorilla would almost certainly be already working away at some invention or another, despite the rather early hour.

What she was not expecting, however, was how tired her friend looked when he answered the door.

Behind him, his workshop was even messier than usual. Discarded components and blueprints were scattered across the tables, while newer components were just as haphazard, just a bit more easily accessible. Spent jars of peanut butter and banana skins filled the rubbish bin, and computer monitors all around the room displayed readouts in various stages of completion.

Winston gave her a weary smile, his eyes red-rimmed with fatigue after his all-nighter.

“You really shouldn’t push yourself so hard, you know,” Angela said automatically, the doctor in her immediately noticing his obvious lack of sleep, even though she knew how hypocritical it sounded. “You look exhausted.”

Winston rubbed his eyes and returned to his workbench, putting the finishing touches on a few soldered wires with surprisingly dexterous fingers. “I know, but this was important. I think all those electrical failures we’ve been having recently might have something to do with… what you told me yesterday,” he replied with a sympathetic smile.

As much as Angela had told herself she was prepared for this, her heart still gave a painful little lurch at the mention of the subject. She looked at the floor, fully aware that he was about to tell her it was caused by a malfunctioning holoprojector or something of the sort, despite whatever tiny, overly-optimistic part of her brain desperately wanted to have some kind of hope at Lena’s reappearance.

“I think Lena is alive.” Winston’s words cut through her consciousness like a hot knife, and her eyes whipped up to his in shock.

_What._

Winston laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, obviously seeing the disbelief, along with the fragile hope that was breaking across her features.

“We assumed that she wasn’t able to eject and was killed in the crash. But why didn’t we consider if she was even in the plane when it went down?” Winston hypothesized, his tone tentative and uncertain. He didn’t want to give her false hope, but she was owed an explanation, no matter how theoretical it was.

“You mean, if she was teleported somewhere else instead?” Angela asked, but Winston shook his head.

“Not where,” he replied. “When. The teleportation matrix bends spacetime, remember? But if something went wrong and the temporal field didn’t stabilize her molecules correctly, it might have pushed Lena out of phase with the rest of the universe, leaving her trapped in a state of flux just outside of our reality. If that’s true, the residual energy would mess with our electronics, exactly like what’s been happening.”

Angela took a moment to let that sink in. While she didn’t have a background in theoretical physics, a lot of what he said made sense. It was why Lena could not be seen or heard most of the time, even passing through solid objects with ease. Because her molecules kept fluctuating, always shifting and changing and never “lining up” properly with the ones of the world around her.

But other times, when the alignment was closer, she could see and hear the world around her. Or, like in the hangar the other night, the world around her could even see and hear _her._

Which meant… Lena was alive, and if their technology had sent her there, maybe it could bring her back?

“Can we reverse it?” Angela asked, trying not to let herself get too carried away in the excitement that accompanied the realization. Winston had, after all, just told her that her girlfriend was _barely_ holding on to the same _universe_ , so she might be getting a little ahead of herself.

“I was already working on a phase modulator to help some of the electronics with the interference, so I think with a few modifications, I can build some kind of chamber to keep her stable. But she probably wouldn’t be able to leave it. At least, not until I have enough time to design something a bit smaller.”

Nothing could have prepared her for this. For days, she had been wrestling with her own memory, telling herself that she _could not_ have seen what she thought she saw, because _ghosts aren’t real._ But Winston was telling her that it was real, even if it was more of a shadow than an actual ghost. And that shadow was alive and… not _well_ , but much better than they had thought

A joyful laugh threatened to slip from Angela’s mouth as some of that massive weight of the past few months suddenly seemed to disappear from her shoulders. “Please do it if you can, Winston,” she replied, when she trusted herself to speak without her voice breaking from the happy tears that threatened to slip down her cheeks. “If there’s anything we can do to help, we need to. She seemed so lonely.”

“I thought you might say that. That’s what I was working on,” he said, gesturing at the components strewn across the workbench before him. “I’ve made good progress.”

Unable to help herself, the doctor threw her arms around Winston, who just chuckled and returned the embrace. “Thank you,” she said, planting a kiss on his forehead before glancing excitedly over his shoulder at the schematics he had before him.

Her analytical eye was already hard at work scanning the blueprint, visualizing as much of the structure as she could from the quick sketches and design schematics Winston had created for reference. The value of such a chamber was obvious. With its squat, utilitarian steel construction, it was not beautiful, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it was simple. A quick solution to keep Lena in _this_ time until he could make something better.

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “With that much power, it would be a lot safer to use glass walls instead of steel. We could actually see her, and we wouldn’t have to worry about electrocuting ourselves.”

Winston glanced back at the plans and, immediately realizing what she meant, chuckled again and rubbed some of the sleep from his eyes before making the change.

“Together, we’re going to get her back, Angela.”

* * *

_And… just a little more… there!_

The doctor sighed happily, working her wrench free of that final bolt and setting it on the worktable beside her. She raised her arms above her head and stretched, unsurprised to find the muscles there tired and sore. Every component, from the glass panels to the power transformers, had been seriously heavy, making the past few days one of the best workouts of Angela’s life.

Nonetheless, it seemed that their determination had paid off. A completely theoretical piece of technology, built from scratch, in well under a week. And, as Winston connected the final power supply cables and adjusted a few remaining settings, complete and ready for use.

It was… hideous, to put it mildly. A glass box, barely more than a few meters in each dimension, with enough protruding wires to make it look like the interrogation room on some alien spaceship. Alone, that would have been bad enough, but the image was only worsened by the lack of any real access between the interior and exterior, since their need for a consistent, smooth outer shell prevented them from having an opening any bigger than the narrow slot they would use to provide Lena’s meals.

It pained Angela to think that this box would be Lena’s home for the foreseeable future, but she reminded herself that almost _anything_ would be better than her current hell.

“That should be everything,” Winston said with a nervous grin as he sealed up the final panel. “Let’s cross our fingers.”

Angela nodded, her heart in her throat as she took a position beside the big, red ‘on’ switch.

This was it. The moment of truth.

Taking a deep breath, she flipped it.

And with a loud groan, the machine turned on. All around them, the electrical hum built up as circuits activated and began to glow with that same brilliant misty blue that had surrounded Lena that night in the hangar. With bated breath, they waited as the box remained agonizingly empty for several, seemingly infinite seconds.

Then, a form began to take shape.

It was hazy and indistinct at first, but as the stabilizing field powered up, the faint blue mist began to coalesce. Before their very eyes, the woman they had missed so badly started to materialize, her body slowly taking on its natural colors as she solidified.

Suddenly, Angela realized that she had changed her mind. The device was not hideous. It was nothing of the sort. It was one of the most beautiful things they had ever created. And the proof was right there before them, letting out a gasp as her lungs filled with air again for the first time in months.

Angela couldn’t help the massive, overjoyed smile that forced its way onto her face, and she threw her arms around Winston, thanking him profusely.

Quickly, however, her delighted expression was replaced by one of concern as she turned back to Lena, watching as she slumped against the wall of the chamber, sliding down the glass until she arrived in a sitting position on the floor. Her breath came in pants, letting that glorious oxygen spread through her body as every one of her senses was assaulted simultaneously in a way that was both brand-new and shockingly familiar. Angela watched as Lena’s fingers brushed delicately against the floor beneath her, with just the texture itself enough to draw a little gasp from the young woman.

Immediately, Angela was beside the glass wall, her hand resting against the material as she peered inside with eyes only for the pilot. “Lena, are you alright?” she asked, as Lena looked at her own hands in wonder, then hugged herself tightly, a sob escaping her body as she realized that she was _real._

Actually, properly, real.

Slowly, those beautiful, deeply expressive eyes rose to meet hers, full of disbelief and wonder, leaving the doctor feeling as if her heart wanted to leap from her chest in an effort to get closer to the woman she loved.

“You saved me,” Lena said as tears of relief began to slide down her cheeks. Her hand met Angela’s, their palms lining up through the glass that separated them.

Then, she began to cry. Earnest, heartfelt crying as she thanked her best friends over and over again for pulling her out of that unending empty wasteland and saving her life.

“How?” she said after several minutes, her voice small as she sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I thought I would be there forever. How did you bring me back?”

Angela opened her mouth to explain, but when Lena directed her gaze on her with a look of such unfiltered _adoration_ , she found that her heart was far too full for words. Instead, she simply gestured to Winston, to let him explain.

The gorilla, who had been standing a bit back from the chamber, smiling to himself as the two women had their reunion, stepped forward to describe to Lena what they had achieved.

“The Slipstream put your body into a state of chronal disassociation,” he explained. “Essentially, it pushed you outside the normal flow of time, which is why you could only rarely interact with anyone or anything.”

“And you fixed it?” Lena asked, her trademark excitement beginning to slip into her voice at the prospect of having escaped that world for good.

Winston wrung his hands guiltily, wishing he didn’t have to disappoint her when she had already been through so much. “Unfortunately, no. Until I can build you something a bit more portable, I’m afraid you have to stay in there so you don’t disappear again.”

Lena looked slightly crestfallen, but nonetheless, she nodded in understanding, shivering at the very prospect. “I’ll definitely take it, then. Anything but that, love.”

“We thought you might say that,” Winston replied with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry there isn’t much room, though.”

The pilot nodded again in agreement, then gave the box a quick once-over before returning her gaze to the two scientists. “It’s not so bad, really,” she said optimistically. “The world’s been so empty for so long, I really don’t mind a small space for a while. Reminds me I’m real now, yeah?”

Angela felt another weight lift off her chest at Lena’s reply. They had hoped that Lena would not be opposed to the situation, or even worse, have a fear of confined spaces. Luckily, it seemed that they were correct.

But despite having been returned to the real world, it struck Angela just how isolated Lena still was. She was essentially locked in a cage, with no possibility of human contact to ease her transition.

“Is there anything you need?” the doctor asked abruptly, even a little breathlessly, overcome with a sudden desire to make Lena as comfortable as possible.

The pilot glanced around once again, taking in the small cot and basket of clothing that they had left for her, before replying with a weak, but genuine smile. “I’m alright for now, I think. But you know, I suppose I’ve technically been wearing this flight suit for a good couple of months at least.” She looked down at her lightly charred blue-and-yellow outfit and gave it an experimental sniff. “And it kinda smells like a cross between a cigarette and some _really_ overdone toast, so I think I’ll give it a quick change if you don’t mind?”

Somewhere near one of the worktables, Winston nodded and turned around to leave. “I should be making a report to Commander Morrison anyway,” he said. “He’ll need to know that we have another person living on the base now.”

“Brilliant! Thanks, love!”

“Angela, are you coming?” he asked, but the doctor didn’t really hear him. Wide-eyed, she stared at Lena, not having heard much beyond _she was going to be changing right there in a completely transparent glass box._

Suddenly realizing what must be going through her mind, Lena smirked, unable to resist flirting with the flustered doctor. “You know, you can stay if want to watch, Angie. You’ve seen me in less,” she said, letting out a small giggle at the other woman’s deepening blush.

“ _Way_ too much information, Lena,” Winston groaned, trying and failing to simultaneously cover his ears and open the door to make a hasty escape. “At least wait until I’m gone, geez.”

“Sorry, Winston,” Lena replied, not particularly apologetically as she watched the doctor attempting to restart her brain.

After significantly more time than she would like to admit, Angela shook her head, managing to push the blissful memories of all those months ago out of her mind. Opening the slot in the chamber, she slid a box of wet wipes inside, avoiding Lena’s gaze.

“In case you want to clean yourself up a little while you’re at it,” Angela explained hurriedly. “It’s definitely no shower, but it’s the best we have for now.”

Lena nodded, taking the box from the doctor with a genuine smile. And while her smile might not have been a big one, it showed her determination not to get hung up on the past. She was part of the real world again, and she wasn’t leaving any time soon.

“Thanks, Angie. I love you,” she said, trying to put as much gratitude as she could into those few words: not just for the clothes, or even for the chronal stabilization chamber, but for helping her and supporting her and being everything she could ever want in a girlfriend.

“I love you too,” the doctor replied, locking eyes with Lena for several long seconds, before blowing her a kiss and following Winston from the room to give her some privacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lena's back! Properly, this time! And I think she and Angela are pretty glad to see each other :) They've already started flirting!
> 
> But they aren't quite out of the woods yet... Lena's brave face is pretty convincing for now, but she really went through a lot :( I'll probably be adding tags for hurt/comfort and PTSD in the next chapter or two. It won't be anything too heavy, but I wanted to let you all know.
> 
> And if you've been liking the series so far, or even if you have any recommendations or requests for things you'd like to see in future chapters, kudos and comments are always super appreciated!


	3. A Beautiful Smile

It didn’t take long for Angela’s coworkers to notice the change in her behavior.

They hardly even needed to point it out to her, because she could already see it in herself. Her energy and motivation had spiked, and while she did get lost in thoughts or daydreams rather frequently, the noticeable infusion of cheer into the doctor’s mood had everyone wondering what had happened.

Gossip spreads like a wildfire, especially in a close-knit environment like that of the Overwatch Medical Department, so it wasn’t long before the speculation began. Suddenly, rather than shutting herself in her office and working into the early hours of the morning, a far livelier Dr. Ziegler was leaving by closing time, a smile on her face as her thoughts went to whatever, or whoever, was awaiting her return.

It was only reasonable that they assume she had a new girlfriend. Angela was well-liked by her coworkers, and after the way her last relationship had ended, they were overjoyed that she had finally found someone that could bring some light to her life.

Suffice it to say, however, that when Commander Morrison sent out the email detailing the situation, they were as shocked as anyone to learn that the doctor’s new lover was, in fact, that very same woman from all those months ago.

For her part, Angela could scarcely believe that she wasn’t dreaming. The stabilization chamber had been working perfectly, not once allowing Lena so much as a flicker, even after days of nonstop operation. It was even surprisingly quiet, giving Angela and Lena plenty of opportunity for conversation over its ever-present electrical hum.

Those conversations gave her life. Certainly, there were still times when her thoughts of self-deprecation returned, and she felt her positivity begin to slip away as thoughts of Amélie, or Gérard, or any of the others claimed her mind, but things never seemed quite so bleak now that she had something positive that she could focus on.

And whenever she felt the need to talk about it, Lena was always more than happy to listen and provide whatever verbal comfort she could from the isolation of her chamber. The memory of her affectionate smile, or her soft words of comfort, or even the warmth in her eyes, kept Angela going throughout the day, helping her to rise up whenever the darkness began to encroach. Not for the first time today, Angela was struck by the sudden desire to hug her girlfriend.

 _‘It’s been too long since I told her how much I love her,’_ Angela thought as she finished her shift, stopping by the dining hall to pick up two trays of food before continuing on her way to Winston’s workshop. _‘Even though I told her this morning.’_

She smiled to herself, realizing just how often she had that very thought.

As she walked, she glanced down at the two wholly unimpressive meals before her, briefly wondering what they were supposed to be. Thankfully, despite their questionable quality, there was at least a telltale curl of steam rising from the plates, indicating that they were, if nothing else, still hot.

Not that Lena would care, of course. After so much time lost in the void, completely cut off from any kind of food or drink, she found every single flavor a delightful experience, pleasantly assaulting her long-neglected sense of taste and overwhelming her in the best possible way.

Angela would never forget Lena’s reaction to her first bite of food in months. The young woman had _shivered_ , involuntarily letting her eyes slip closed as she let out a drawn-out moan, relishing the way the flavors shot through her taste buds with an expression of absolute pleasure on her face. Especially with the young woman wearing that tight shirt that hugged every one of her curves so perfectly, Angela had never imagined that eating toast with strawberry preserves could be so erotic.

Even now, several days later and in the middle of a hallway, the memory still brought a blush to Angela’s cheeks.

She glanced back at the trays in her hands and revised her earlier opinion. At least, if the food tasted how it looked, Angela might have a chance to successfully make it through the entire meal without ending up a flustered mess.

She was just outside the workshop now, and those thoughts quickly escaped her as the sounds of punk rock reached her ears. A smile had already found its way onto her face as she entered, any remaining weariness dissipating rapidly at the amusing scene before her.

Lena was sprawled on her cot, her foot tapping against the glass and her eyes closed as she listened intently to the pounding music. Meanwhile, Winston was hunched over his workbench, finishing up the day’s work with a few final touches on whatever invention he was working on, his ears covered by an especially fluffy set of earmuffs. Neither of them noticed her entrance at first, both content and lost in their own worlds.

The doctor’s smile turned especially affectionate as her eyes came to rest on Lena for several long moments. She looked so peaceful, comfortable for the first time since the Slipstream, and Angela wished she could freeze this moment in time forever.

But, as if sensing she was being watched, the brunette opened her eyes and searched the room, then sat up in excitement, a massive smile breaking across her face. “Angie!” she exclaimed happily. Briefly, she glanced in the direction of the computer monitor. “Hey, Athena. Could you pause the music, please?”

“Acknowledged,” the AI answered, and the intense song immediately died away.

“Thanks, love,” Lena replied, then turned back to the doctor and proceeded to give her a quick once-over. “Anyway, how are you, doc?” she inquired curiously. “How was work?”

Angela shrugged, briefly setting the trays down so she could pull up a chair beside the chamber. “It was a pretty normal day,” she said. “Mostly cuts and bruises, one or two broken bones, _lots_ of paperwork. The usual… Oh, and Sergeant Andrews came in with morning sickness. She was rather shocked to find out it was because she’s pregnant.”

Lena’s eyebrows went up. “Bloody hell, that’s the kind of news that will really change your plans for the morning.”

Angela nodded in acknowledgement, sliding Lena’s tray into the slot in the chamber. “I’ve already sent in the paperwork to take her off active duty for the next nine months. She understood, even if she wasn’t very happy about it.”

With a quick ‘thanks, love,’ Lena accepted her food, happily beginning to eat as Angela did the same. The blond woman smirked, “So how much have you been disturbing poor Winston with your loud music?”

Lena looked somewhat chastened. “Is it really that loud?” she asked. “I can’t always tell since things are kinda muffled in here.”

“It isn’t too bad,” she replied truthfully as she cut into what was probably a meatball. “The door is just thinner than it should be. But you know how Winston values his concentration.”

As if on cue, both women turned to look at the big gorilla, hunched over his desk in his earmuffs, still somehow oblivious to Angela’s arrival, despite the obvious smell of dinner. They shared a brief look, and giggled quietly. “Should we let him know that it’s dinnertime?” Angela asked.

Lena shrugged and let out a quiet sigh. “He’s been so excited today about the progress he’s been making on a more portable anchor for me that he had lunch at his desk. I told him he really doesn’t need to work so hard for me, but he seemed so determined…” she paused momentarily, smiling affectionately at their big friend. “You know how he gets when he has an idea.”

Angela nodded, and the brunette shifted in place a bit, looking uncomfortable. After a few moments, she continued somewhat falteringly, her voice quieter than before, “I feel bad, that after everything he’s doing to help me, I’m still disturbing him with loud music. I feel like such a nuisance…” she trailed off.

At that, Angela shook her head violently, hating that Lena could _ever_ feel like a burden. “You are _not_ a nuisance, Lena,” she replied vehemently. “You’re an amazing woman, truly. Both of us are delighted to have you back.”

The brunette smiled faintly, not seeming completely convinced, but she continued speaking nonetheless. “It just… I just feel like I need it, sometimes. It… it helps, you know?”

“Helps with what?” Angela asked delicately, sensing that this was a sensitive topic for the younger woman.

Lena sighed and stared at the ground, not wanting to meet the doctor’s eyes. “When it gets too quiet, it reminds me… it reminds me of being lost,” she said, her voice small. “It was quiet _all the time,_ and sometimes, when it gets quiet in here… I start… I start worrying I’m going to disappear again.”

Angela fought back a wave of sadness that came over her at Lena’s words. She had known Lena still had nightmares, of course. Almost every night since they had recovered her, the younger woman had woken up in the middle of the night, screaming as her dreams left her once again in the grip of that desolate blue landscape.

And every night, Angela would slip out of the bed they had set up beside Lena’s chamber and sit beside her, whispering soothing words and sweet nothings through the perforated glass until the younger woman returned to her restless sleep. Angela felt her eyes moisten, wishing she could conceive a method of preventing Lena’s suffering.

“You never told me,” the doctor whispered, fighting back tears.

“I didn’t want you to worry about me,” Lena replied, her eyes glistening as they met Angela’s. “You have your work, and I didn’t want to distract you.”

“But you shouldn’t suffer alone!” she cried out. “I could have kept you company…”

Lena shook her head, smiling affectionately. “That’s nonsense and you know it, love. How do you think I would feel if I let you forget all your responsibilities so you could spend your day with me? Hell, you’ve already brought a bed into a bloody workshop, just so you can spend your nights with me! That’s already more than I could ever ask for, you know?”

“Still…” the doctor began to protest, but Lena cut her off.

“Winston keeps me company while he’s working, and really, love, I’m happy with that. Besides, we could never spend the whole day talking anyway. We’d run out of rubbish to talk about pretty quickly. So I listen to music, or watch movies, or do whatever workout I can manage in here to pass the time, and he keeps his earmuffs on so he can concentrate. It works out.”

Finally, the doctor acquiesced, nodding in acknowledgement and wiping the remaining moisture from her eyes. She still felt guilty, but she could see Lena would not budge on this.

“And anyways,” Lena continued with a faint smile. “I don’t know if you heard, but whenever I’m feeling up to it, some of Winston’s friends want me to write a report on my experiences, so I’ll have plenty to do in a couple days. Apparently, I’m pretty important to the scientific community, I am.”

“I can imagine. I guess you’re the world’s first time-traveler, after all.”

Lena shrugged noncommittally, then turned an adoring gaze on the blonde. “I guess. It’s not really all they make it out to be though. I much prefer to be back here with you.”

Despite everything, Angela couldn’t help the way her breath caught in her throat, and she felt a genuine smile break across her features. She would never get tired of hearing Lena say things like that. “I prefer it this way too,” she replied, her eyes meeting the brunette’s and maintaining contact for a long while.

It was with lightly pinkened cheeks that they eventually broke apart. Even though their meals had long-since cooled off, making the mediocre flavor that much more obvious, neither woman even realized.

They were together again, and that was what mattered.

* * *

It took a while, but eventually, Winston became aware of Angela’s arrival.

He had blushed, apologizing profusely for seeming to ignore her, but she had waved it aside with a giggle.

 _“It happens to everyone,”_ she had said.

They had conversed for awhile longer, with Winston giving them updates on the progress he had made with the new device for Lena: something he had named the “chronal accelerator,” as well as chatting with his two best friends. He seemed optimistic about the results, and to both women’s delight, he estimated completion in the relatively near future.

It was then that Winston’s stomach rumbled, so he excused himself, leaving them alone to enjoy the remainder of their night together. One movie on one of Athena’s monitors and several adorable yawns later, and both women were brushing their teeth and getting ready for bed, turning away from each other with flustered cheeks when they changed their clothes.

But as they laid on their respective beds, Lena fell quiet. If their earlier conversation was any clue, Angela knew exactly what she was thinking about. And while she might not be able to _stop_ Lena from thinking about her time in the void, she could definitely distract her.

“You know, this actually reminds me of my first date,” she began, smiling at the young woman through the glass. “I still truly feel bad for him.”

Lena perked up immediately, her thoughts temporarily forgotten. This was a story she wanted to hear. “Bloody hell, love, you never told me you’d been on a date with a guy before. I didn’t think you swung both ways.”

Angela chuckled. “I don’t. I was fourteen, so the whole idea of romance was still a bit of a foreign concept to me. But some of the girls in my class said he was handsome, so who was I to argue? And I wasn’t ready to tell them just yet that I found them way more attractive than he was, so I just went along with it.”

A giggle rose from Lena, and Angela felt her heart surge with warmth, so she continued with a grin, “Suffice it to say, there was not a second one.”

“Wait, what about this…” she gestured vaguely at her surroundings “…reminds you of it? What was he, a prisoner?” she asked.

“Only metaphorically,” Angela replied, chuckling at the memory before proceeding with her story. “I still feel terrible for him, because he was trying so hard to be romantic. He had the whole thing planned. Obviously he was too young to drive, so he couldn’t pick me up by himself, but his parents were going to pick us up from school and take us to this little movie theater just a few blocks from the orphanage I grew up in. From there, we could walk to a restaurant nearby for dinner before he walked me back home.”

Angela glanced over, and saw that Lena was listening with rapt attention, so she continued her story with a grin. “They had just picked me up, and we were heading to the theater, when his father realized he had forgotten his wallet at work, so he stopped to pick it up. Of course, I didn’t mind, but my date was so embarrassed about the whole thing, and he didn’t want to be late for the movie, so he jumped out and ran inside to grab it for him.”

“But while he was there, he dropped the keys behind some of the machinery, and got himself locked inside the building. So you can imagine, I’m just sitting in the car with his parents, awkwardly waiting for him to come back, and he’s still nowhere to be seen. His parents had been glaring at me for several minutes, so at this point, I was almost ready to admit that they didn’t need to worry, since I wasn’t attracted to men anyways. Then we hear this banging noise coming from the door to the workshop, and we finally realized that he never made it out. So instead of seeing the movie, the only thing glimpses we had of each other all night were through the little window while we waited for the fire department to arrive.”

Picturing the scene Angela was describing, Lena felt guilty about laughing, but she couldn’t help the little snicker that escaped her. Everyone has those kinds of days. She could just imagine the boy’s parents giving Angela the classic parental death glare, all while ‘trying not to intrude on their son’s date,’ then proceeding to panic and embarrass him as much as possible.

“Not exactly the most romantic first date,” she observed.

“No,” Angela confirmed with a giggle of her own. “For some reason, dates getting locked in rooms is becoming a bit of a pattern for me, even if it’s for entirely different reasons.”

Lena let out another chuckle. “I’ll do my best to stay away from any lockable doors in the future, love.”

“That’s probably wise,” Angela replied with a mock-serious nod. Then, struck by sudden curiosity, she asked, “So… tell me about _your_ first date.”

Lena thought about it for a few moments before replying. “Well, I suppose my first proper date was when I was sixteen. Her name was Emily, and she was absolutely lovely. We were in a lot of the same classes in school, and since I used to run and she used to play volleyball, we saw each other all the time after class. Eventually, I just decided to ask her out. I took her for fish and chips at this little shop in King’s Row, and we kissed for the first time at her front door on the way home.”

Angela grinned. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Yeah,” Lena replied, a smile of her own on her face as she remembered. “I tried inviting her to join me and my mates when we got together for a match of footie, but they banned us when we kept ‘accidentally’ running into each other and one of us always ended up on top of the other.”

The doctor laughed heartily. “That sounds very much like you, Lena.”

“Oi, I wasn’t just playing to feel up my girlfriend, you know!” she replied, a little indignantly. “It just sort of… happened.”

Angela let out another genuine laugh, relishing how it felt to finally, _finally_ have a reason to do so.

“Shut up,” Lena muttered, but the words had no bite. It only took a few more moments before she was laughing too.

And in that moment, laughing with her girlfriend as they prepared for bed, Angela came to a realization.

Maybe she couldn’t keep Lena’s nightmares away completely.

But if she could keep making her laugh like that, she might be able to make them just a little bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I hope you're all doing well!
> 
> I wanted to include a bit more about these character's pasts in here, so I decided to include Emily as Lena's ex-girlfriend. She probably won't actually be showing up, but I thought she gave Lena a bit more backstory. Also, I can totally picture Tracer "accidentally" running into her girlfriend once or twice in the middle of a match XD
> 
> Also, Angela's story is made up, but it's loosely based on my own first date (the other girl didn't show because she ended up in detention, which is basically like getting locked in a workshop)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all liked the chapter! As always, thanks for sticking around with this story, and I wish you all the very best :) Until the next time!


	4. Not Alone (slightly NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! As you probably noticed, I haven't really been able to keep my original weekly upload schedule, so I was thinking I could manage every week and a half, maybe Friday/Saturday-ish one week, and then Tuesday-ish the next? I'm not quite sure yet, but I thought I should let you know so you have an idea of when to expect updates. I'm really sorry about it, though :(
> 
> Anyway, this chapter has several adult themes in it, so quick warning: there are quite a few references to sexual tension in the first part of the chapter (which is why I marked it as slightly NSFW). Additionally, in the second section, Lena experiences a panic attack due to her PTSD from the Slipstream, so be warned if that is potentially triggering for you. Feel free to skip any parts that you aren't comfortable reading :)

Unfortunately, as Angela was beginning to find out, spending every night with Lena had some unintended, if not entirely surprising, side effects.

Put simply, the doctor was a bit… frustrated.

In _that_ way.

It wasn’t her _fault_ exactly. Without even trying, Lena aroused a passion in her that she had never felt for any other lover before. And she was _right there:_ so close, yet so far, and Angela wanted nothing more than to run her hands through silky brown hair while she took those irresistibly soft lips in her own.

She had managed to keep those disruptive thoughts in check for quite a while, and even though they kept flirting and playfully teasing each other, they had successfully kept things mostly innocent. But with no outlet, the tension was only building between them, and Angela was starting to really feel it.

Especially after that day where she walked in on Lena exercising.

Once or twice, the brunette had casually mentioned that she had been working out, just to pass the time, but it was another thing entirely to see it in action.

It just wasn’t fair.

Lena had been _doing pushups._

Her form was perfect: her toned arms flexing each time she slowly lowered herself almost to the ground, then steadily began to raise herself once again before repeating the entire process. All the while, her skin gleamed, shining with a thin layer of sweat as she exercised, making her entire body that much more tantalizing.

Just like that, Angela’s mask of innocent thoughts was shattered, and she felt a blush rise to her cheeks, unable to stop her eyes from raking appreciatively down Lena’s back. It was a little embarrassing, how long her gaze rested on Lena’s backside, so well-defined in those tight shorts.

Even after Lena had hopped to her feet, having noticed the doctor’s presence, Angela still felt herself unable to look away as the room’s temperature became uncomfortably warm.

 _‘It should be illegal to look this good,’_ she remembered thinking.

Somewhere in Angela’s brain, she vaguely registered that she must have recalled Lena’s size incorrectly when choosing her clothes. Her shirt, especially, was _at least_ a size too small. Even though Lena was wearing a sports bra underneath, the white fabric was still stretched tightly across her breasts, clearly accentuating every mind-numbingly attractive curve, all while exposing an alluring strip of her firm abdomen.

Her shorts were not much better, gripping tightly to the young woman’s hips and further emphasizing that combination of lithe strength and delicate softness that defined so much of Lena’s body.

Suffice it to say, there was almost no way Lena could miss the obvious arousal on Angela’s face, and her face broke into a cheeky smirk when she caught on.

“See something you like, love?” she had said, her eyes playful as she took up a sassy pose, one eyebrow raised and her arms crossed, her hips thrown jauntily to the side.

“ _Yes_ ,” Angela had replied without thinking, both unable and unwilling to deny her clear interest. “You have no idea.”

Lena’s smirk grew wider, and after that, the tension between them increased at least tenfold.

And while they _tried_ to limit their flirting to the occasional coy wink or slight innuendo, especially whenever Winston was also present, it wasn’t always easy. More than once, they had found themselves in a far less-innocent stare, their gazes dark and heated, bottom lip caught between their teeth as they undressed each other with their eyes.

Of course, Winston had caught them at it, and even though their desire fortunately went unnoticed, their longing was more than clear for anyone to see. ‘The worst case of heart-eyes I’ve ever seen,’ he had called it, and Angela found that she fully agreed. Of course, they could still chat or flirt, laugh or cry together, but it wasn’t the same. She _craved_ Lena’s touch: all the adorable cuddles, warm hugs, and passionate kisses that came with her amazingly tactile lover.

Knowing just how many of her thoughts were occupied by the attractive brunette, and without any chances to blow off some steam, it was only a matter of time before Lena invaded her dreams too.

More than once, Angela had jolted awake in the middle of the night, panting roughly and feeling as if her entire body was overheating. The sheets had become sticky and damp with sweat, clinging to her body like a second skin as she was roused from a particularly intense dream, her entire body poised and desperate for relief.

Last night, things had gotten bad enough that she had awoken to find her hand already firmly between her legs, her entire body pulsing and right on the edge of a release that was both _way_ too close, and _agonizingly_ far away. Only by biting down _hard_ on the knuckles of her other hand, had she managed to choke down the embarrassing moan that almost escaped her lips as she pulled her hand away, fingertips noticeably damp regardless of the barrier provided by her underwear.

To make matters worse, the woman starring in her decidedly… _unprofessional_ dreams was barely a few meters away, looking adorably innocent as she slept soundly in her own bed.

 _‘At least I didn’t wake Lena,’_ she had thought as she lay awake, trying to resist the maddening arousal that lingered from her vivid dream. _‘With her nightmares, her sleep schedule is broken enough as it is.’_

Not that Lena would have minded, of course. In fact, she was probably _at least_ as frustrated as Angela, having spent so long without so much as a hint of human contact. Almost certainly, she would be more than flattered at the idea that she had affected her girlfriend so.

But then what?

They just acknowledge the tension and go back to sleep without another word?

Or even worse, they try to find some way to release it? What would that even mean? Watching each other touch themselves or something?

It was definitely better that Lena didn’t know.

The door to the workshop didn’t exactly _lock_ , after all, and while the chances were extremely low that someone would be looking for some power tool at four in the morning, they weren’t _nonexistent_ , and she was not exactly interested in explaining _that_ situation to some unfortunate, unsuspecting engineer in the middle of the night.

But despite the risk of getting caught, Angela felt a little shiver run through her body at the prospect of sharing an intimate moment like that with Lena. Of course, it would be better to have _Lena’s_ hands on her, but Angela had absolutely no doubts that she could bring her built-up tension to a swift conclusion at the sight of the other woman, her eyes half-lidded with desire and her hands delicate and teasing all across her own body, panting as her fingers slid ever lower, circling gently between her legs as her eyes closed with pleasure and she let out a heated moan…

Angela shook her head, hurriedly pulling herself out of her fantasy. She was at _work_. Even if the day was almost over, thoughts like that were distracting, not to mention completely inappropriate.

She turned back to the requisition form before her, trying to distract herself from the uncomfortably damp feeling between her thighs by referencing the document once more with the supply inventory. Everything seemed to be in order, so she signed at the bottom, then set it in the growing pile in the corner of her desk.

It had been a long day, that much was certain. She just wanted to see Lena. Even though the brunette was basically driving her crazy, leaving the doctor a mess of unfulfilled desire and hormones, she was still a wonderful friend and a fantastic listener, and today, Angela needed some of that innocent companionship to pull her out of this veritable abyss of boredom.

She let out a long sigh, rubbing briefly at her eyes. If only someone had told her being a doctor would come with _so much paperwork._ She chuckled, imagining the look of horror on her younger self’s face if she had been told that in a few short years, she would be seeing more paper than patients. She loved her job dearly, but it was on slow days like this where the responsibilities and tedium really started sinking in.

It all came with the position, she supposed.

Still, it was horrifically boring, and before long, Angela’s mind began wandering yet again. She grimaced, turning back to the form before her, this one a staff performance report, and shook her head in mild annoyance. Normally, she could maintain excellent concentration, keeping her attention on even the most boring tasks until she saw them fulfilled, so it really was a testament to how distracting Lena had become for her that she found herself so unable to focus.

She glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes until the end of her shift. She could manage that.

* * *

Lena smiled to herself, barely able to keep her excitement at bay as she chatted with Winston. Angela would be getting back any minute now, and she couldn’t wait for Winston to show the blonde his latest creation.

She could see it right now, its hard metal casing currently lying inert on a workbench. Even though it was unilluminated and silent, the device held so much promise that Lena was practically bouncing in place at the prospect of showing her girlfriend.

It had been a surprise when Winston had suddenly announced having a breakthrough, completing the final few milestones of the project in a mere fraction of the time he had anticipated. They had known he was close, but it hadn’t even crossed their imaginations that he would be done _today._

“Dr. De Kuiper was very excited to read your report, Lena,” Winston said, smiling excitedly like he always did when there was an interesting science experiment to talk about. “Some of his theories on gravitational manipulation and its effects on spacetime are fascinating, and your experience may have just helped to confirm some of them.”

“I’m glad it was useful to someone, love,” Lena replied, feeling her excitement dissipate as a little shiver run through her body at the mention of her time in the void. “Be a right shame if it was all for nothing.”

Lena hated the way she invariably reacted to any reference to the Slipstream. Without fail, her usual positivity would melt away, leaving her shuddering as unbidden memories sprung to mind, assailing her thoughts with that dreadful curtain of lonely blue.

She just wanted it to be _over._ To be normal again. She wasn’t lost anymore: she hadn’t been for weeks. So why couldn’t her mind just _let go?_ Angela had said her fears were completely understandable, but they still made her feel broken, like she was just as crippled as so many other failed test pilots, and it _hurt._

Thankfully, Winston said nothing about her involuntary reaction, and continued without pause, “You should take a look at some of his research at some point. It’s incredible.”

Lena shrugged, pushing her dark thoughts away and smiling at her endearing friend. “You know I can’t keep up with all that,” she said, giggling a little.

Winston scratched the back of his neck, looking somewhat chastened. “Sorry, I get a little carried away sometimes…” he said, then quickly added. “But you shouldn’t sell yourself short, Lena. You’re very intelligent. You picked up on most of the Slipstream’s systems extremely quickly.”

There it was again: that uneasy feeling. It was gone almost as quickly as it appeared, but it still left her feeling ashamed.

 _‘What happened to the unflappable Lena Oxton?’_ she asked herself sadly.

Nonetheless, she managed a grin, keeping her inner turmoil well-concealed, “Yeah, but I had you to explain it to me, love.”

“Exactly my point,” the gorilla replied, chuckling at his own self-deprecation. “I’ve been told I’m terrible at explaining things. I make everything sound too complicated, so if you successfully understood it despite all that, it has to mean something.”

Despite everything, Lena felt herself break into a wide, genuine smile at his compliment. “Thanks, Winston,” she said before continuing cheekily, “And you’re really not so bad, you know, you just use a lot of big words sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” came a familiar, amused-sounding voice from the doorway, causing both friends to whip around, delighted smiles breaking across their faces as Angela entered the room, the door shutting behind her with a soft click. “Try ‘always.’ I’ve been to medical conventions that were more colloquial than him.”

Winston looked rather indignant, moving his hands helplessly, as if trying to point out the unfairness of someone who just used the word ‘colloquial’ in conversation protesting the complexity of his word choice. But he knew his objections had fallen on deaf ears when both women turned to him, grinning cheekily, so he shrugged in resignation.

Still grinning, the two women turned their attention back to each other. “I missed you, Angie,” Lena confessed to break the silence, her eyes following the doctor as she set their meals down and pulled up a chair beside Winston’s. “How was your day?”

“ _Boring,_ ” the doctor said, sitting down with a sigh. “Paperwork is going to be the death of me.”

Lena pouted, her eyes glinting excitedly. “Aw, love, you wouldn’t wanna die before seeing what Winston has to show you!”

The gorilla smiled at her eagerness, and lifted the chronal accelerator off the table, holding it for Angela to see. It only took a few moments before Angela recognized it.

“Is that what I think it is?” she asked, trying to keep the obvious excitement out of her voice.

Winston nodded, looking extremely pleased with himself.

Angela glanced back and forth between them, unable to stop the massive smile that was forming on her face. “So,” she asked tentatively. “We could have dinner together tonight? Properly?”

The gorilla nodded once again, returning the doctor’s smile with one of his own. “I can activate it right now if you both want,” he said.

He hardly even needed to ask for their consent, but he made sure to wait until both women nodded their approval, then opened a panel on the device and connected the power.

For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, the device came to life. As its battery was connected, it awoke, nearly completely silently as the dark ring on its face illuminated. Winston held a scanner to it and nodded to himself. “The temporal field seems stable, even if it isn’t as powerful as the chamber. There shouldn’t be any problems.”

Then, he turned to Lena. “Now, you don’t have to be wearing this all the time. Unlike the chamber, where the walls are designed to divert the field inwards, this should work as an emitter. As long as you stay within 20 meters or so from the accelerator, you shouldn’t experience any instability. And remember to charge it every day, alright? The battery should last at least 48 hours, but we don’t want to cut things too close. I’m sure Angela will remind you, even if you don’t.” He smiled at the doctor, “I don’t think she wants you disappearing again any more than you do.”

Lena gulped, her eyes widening in fright as she nodded quickly. “I can’t… I mean… I don’t think I would forget something like that.”

“Well then,” Winston said, clapping his hands together. “If that’s that, I’ll deactivate the chamber. The accelerator will keep you stable from here.”

All of a sudden, Lena felt the gravity of what they were about to do sink in. Winston was about to _deactivate the chamber._ The thing that had been keeping her away from that all-encompassing nothingness that still plagued her nightmares. And as badly as she wanted to be free of her constant prison, there was a certain security about its sturdy glass walls.

But now, she was going to have to leave it. Winston was going to turn off the device that was _keeping her alive,_ and she felt her breathing begin to come faster.

He began to reach for the lever.

How could he even be certain that the accelerator would work?

_What if it didn’t?_

She saw herself back in the void. Glancing at her hand, she began panicking as she watched it disintegrate before her eyes, her entire world fading back to that dim blue. She was disappearing, she could feel it. She was going back to that horrible state of nothingness, with nothing and no one there to bring her back, or even to keep her company.

She was going to be alone again.

Dimly, she heard a voice telling Winston to wait as she felt her backside impact a solid surface. The voice was there again, cutting through her consciousness with its kindness and concern. “Please, breathe for me, Lena. Can you do that? Slowly in through your nose, then out through your mouth, alright?”

Lena knew the owner of that voice. She _loved_ the owner of that voice. It was the voice that made her feel safe and secure and comfortable and treasured, so she had to at least _try_ listening to it.

She followed along as Angela began to guide her breathing aloud. “In… 2… 3… 4… Out… 2… 3… 4…” the blonde muttered. As Lena did so, she began to take shape before her.

Not for the first time, the pilot was struck by Angela’s beauty as she slowly began to rise out of the darkness that had claimed her, gradually feeling the mind-numbing panic begin to subside.

She found herself sitting on the floor of the chamber, tears running down her cheeks as the residual tremors of fear pulsed through her. Above her, Angela looked almost mystical, tears of her own staining her cheeks as she crouched beside the young woman with nothing but concern and empathy in her eyes.

_She really is like an angel._

Lena’s breathing slowly began to steady, and Angela spoke up. “Are you alright, mein Schatz?”

Slowly, she nodded. “I… think so…” she stuttered. “At least… I am now.”

Angela’s hand rested on the outside of the glass, and Lena raised hers to meet it. Angela’s beautiful blue eyes were so concerned, so full of emotion as she stared into her own. “Do you want to talk about it?” she whispered.

The brunette let out a small, teary chuckle, but it sounded weak and fake, even to her ears. “It’s nothing, love. I’m just… I’m just being silly, you know?”

“Listen to me,” she said, looking deeply into Lena’s eyes. “You’re not being silly. We don’t have to do this tonight if you don’t feel comfortable.”

Lena folded her hands in her lap, staring at them as she responded sadly. “I want to do it tonight, though. I want to spend the night with you. Properly, this time.”

The doctor smiled. “I understand, but don’t do anything you aren’t completely comfortable with, alright?”

“I know.”

Behind Angela, Winston could hardly meet their gaze, looking unbearably guilty. “I’m sorry, Lena. I didn’t mean to spring all this on you. I should have told you that I would be turning off the chamber.”

Lena shrugged, slowly beginning to feel like herself again. “It was obvious, that you would have to. And I knew, I guess I just didn’t _really realize_ what it meant _._ It never properly sank in, you know? There’s nothing you should’ve done differently.”

“Still, I should have said something,” he said, still angry with himself for making his friend feel this way. Then, he sighed. “I suppose if you really want to do it today, we should at least eat dinner first. Maybe give yourself some time to recover.”

She nodded, not feeling particularly hungry, but appreciating the opportunity to temporarily leave the subject behind. Whatever the other two might say, she still felt annoyed with herself. They should have been ready to move on, but then her silly, _pointless_ fear had to get in the way.

Even _thinking_ about turning off the chamber still made her a bit nauseous.

* * *

Despite Lena’s initial misgivings, dinner turned out to be one of her favorite memories. They ate and laughed and talked, turning it into a celebration of the completion of the chronal accelerator. Angela had even suggested she look for some champagne, only realizing her mistake when Winston teasingly pointed it out, making a big show of trying to fit an imaginary champagne glass through the narrow slot in Lena’s chamber without spilling any, and making everyone laugh in the process.

And throughout the meal, Lena found herself becoming more and more comfortable with the idea of leaving the room that had been her home since returning from the void. As she watched Angela laughing, her bright, gorgeous blue eyes lighting up with happiness whenever her best friends said something funny or endearing, Lena realized something very, very important. She didn’t know how she had never noticed it sooner.

Whenever she awoke from a nightmare, whenever she felt the fear of the nothingness begin to take over, there was a small measure of comfort that she did take from the chamber around her. Between its sturdy construction and comforting electrical hum, she did feel safe inside. But every time, without fail, she could never truly recover from her fears until she turned in her bed, confirming the presence of the woman outside the chamber.

Every time, no matter what, Angela was there for her. Even if it was merely by sleeping beside her, her stunning face gloriously soft and untroubled as she rested. Usually, though, Lena’s nightmares would awaken her as well, and she would lay awake, whispering soothing words of comfort until Lena returned to sleep.

Angela was her anchor, keeping her steady no matter what happened to her, and always, _always_ coming back for her. Even when she was caught between worlds, trapped in oblivion, Angela had remembered her where no one else had, ready to defy even the known laws of physics to bring her back.

Not some glass box, not some loud punk music, it was _Angela_ that made her feel safe.

She trusted her. Unconditionally. And with that knowledge, Lena knew she was ready to leave this glass prison behind.

“You’ll look for me if I disappear again?” she asked unnecessarily as they prepared once again.

The blonde just looked her deeply in the eyes, making sure she knew that every word was the absolute truth. “Always,” she said.

Beside her, Winston nodded in agreement. “If you’re ready, let’s do it.”

Lena drew a deep breath and nodded. “I’m ready.”

Winston smiled, reaching once again for the power switch on the side of the stabilization chamber. And with that, he pulled it, and the faint electrical hum slowly died away, the chamber’s circuits finally going dark.

A few seconds passed, and still, nothing happened.

The room did not dissolve into nothingness and Lena did not disappear.

She blinked a few times, glancing down at herself in wonder and hesitant excitement. Then, her gaze moved upwards to meet Angela’s eyes, and both women felt the tears begin to flow. Unnoticed by them, Winston unbolted a glass panel, lifting it free of the chamber, and Lena suddenly felt the air conditioner’s faint breeze caress her skin.

She was free.

Lena was frozen for a few more moments, the sensation of being _in the open_ rushing to her all at once. Despite her self-assurances, she was still _afraid_ , and felt like she might still disappear at any moment. But then, Angela stepped inside, and all the world’s sharp edges seemed to melt away.

Soft skin met hers, and Lena shuddered at the foreign sensation of contact, moments away from bursting into tears of joy as the doctor cautiously took her hand. Brown and blue eyes alike filled with tears as the two women stood together for the first time since the Slipstream, their hearts swelling with happiness as she was carefully guided out of the inactive chamber, and into the open world.

Lena threw her arms around Angela, pulling the taller woman tightly against herself, her entire body shivering as her senses were overwhelmed by a myriad of forgotten sensations. She nuzzled into Angela’s neck, tears flowing freely as she took in everything from the smooth, soft touch of her skin to the familiar, delicate scent of her perfume.

Neither woman knew for how long they held their embrace, drawing comfort from each other’s presence. Lena felt a soft giggle emerge from her chest, and before she knew it, both she and Angela began to dissolve into quiet, happy laughs.

“Come here, Winston,” Lena said, opening their embrace to the big gorilla, who joined happily, practically lifting them off the ground in a massive bear hug.

 _‘Gorilla hug,’_ Lena corrected herself with another giggle.

She had forgotten how _good_ it felt to be hugged. She missed it immediately when the other two eventually pulled away.

“Here you go, Lena,” Angela said, lifting the glowing chronal accelerator over her head, sliding the chest piece down to fit comfortably in the middle of Lena’s chest. She reached down, her deft fingers helping the brunette to attach and tighten its various straps, securing the device firmly in place.

It was a little heavy, but after a bit of experimentation and adjustment, she got it to fit perfectly. And if other people could learn to live with prosthetic limbs or pacemakers, Lena knew she could learn to live with this.

She turned in place, grabbing a surprised Angela by the waist and pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. The hard metal of the chronal accelerator between them pressed against their sternums, but they hardly minded, both women sighing into the first kiss they had shared in more than a year.

And Winston just smiled at their adorable display of affection, then turned to start cleaning up some of his equipment as his two best friends finally reunited properly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Lena has her chronal accelerator now, and Angela is definitely quite happy about it XD They finally got the hug they needed so badly!
> 
> Also, I think Lena just had that moment when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone...
> 
> Let me know what you all thought! As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated, and I'll see you all next time!


	5. Trust (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I updated this work to be marked as explicit.
> 
> I was probably pushing it a bit already, calling the other two parts mature, but between some heavy topics, like PTSD in the last chapter, quite a bit of violence coming up, and this chapter, I felt like I couldn't really get away with it anymore. I was hesitant to do this, because I didn't want to imply that this work was purely sexual in nature, especially since I've been trying to make all of the spicy scenes either have a purpose, or show some of the growing emotional connection between Lena and Angela. Don't worry :) that isn't going to change or anything, and chapters like this one will continue to be 100% skippable, if you aren't interested in reading these kinds of scenes.
> 
> So, yeah, this chapter is highly NSFW.  
> If you're interested, I hope you like it! And if not, there will be a brief summary at the beginning of the next chapter :)

In retrospect, it was astounding that they even made it as far as Angela’s quarters.

Lena’s time in isolation had made her _so sensitive_ to almost every touch that she was left gasping and panting every time the doctor’s fingers found a new patch of skin to tenderly caress. Even merely the feeling of teasing fingers gliding down her arm, up her back, or along her side was enough to make Lena break away from their kiss, her breaths hot and quick against Angela’s lips at the long-forgotten stimulation of human contact.

Both women had tried to keep their kisses chaste and innocent at first, simply wanting to relish each other’s company, but Lena’s unintentional reactions quickly built the arousal in both of them. Things rapidly became heated, and both women completely forgot about Winston, their tongues insistent as they searched for some sort of purchase within each other’s mouth. Before Angela knew it, she had been pushed into a chair, unable to do much but pant against Lena’s mouth as the brunette straddled her lap, swallowing her quiet gasps with urgent kisses and panting breaths of her own.

Lena’s arms were draped around Angela’s neck as they made out, so the blonde took the opportunity to let her hands slide down her girlfriend’s back. She took Lena’s backside in her hands, grasping gently at it so that she could encourage the slow, involuntary rocking motion that Lena had begun against Angela’s hips. One glance at Lena’s face, seeing the way her eyelids dropped seductively and her lower lip caught between her teeth, and Angela could tell that she was putting up a valiant effort to remain silent.

In that moment, the doctor reached a decision.

“Bedroom?” she whispered into the shorter woman’s ear, delighting in the shiver that was sent through her body at the feeling of warm breath caressing her skin.

She nodded quickly in response, biting back another potentially embarrassing sound as she reluctantly slid off Angela’s lap. She pulled Angela to her feet, and the two women hurriedly excused their rapid departure, not able to find it in themselves to care what their flushed faces were giving away to Winston. Then, they all but ran the entire way back to Angela’s quarters hand-in-hand, trying not to giggle like teenagers.

_God, I missed her so much._

Never in the doctor’s life had the lock to her quarters presented such an insurmountable challenge. She just couldn’t concentrate, especially when toned arms slid around her waist and those unbelievably soft lips found purchase against her sensitive neck.

Lena’s touch was intoxicating, to say the least. She had always been tactile, but the last hour had been a maelstrom of sensations that she had all but forgotten, despite how much she missed them. She obviously _craved_ more contact, and it was taking everything Angela had not to pin her up against a wall right there in the hallway. Or melt into a puddle herself.

Without even realizing it, Angela’s head rolled to the side and she felt her eyes slide shut of their own free will, letting out a soft moan as open-mouthed kisses continued to work their way along her neck. Coherent thought was escaping her at an alarming rate, and as a hand found her breast, she realized she _still hadn’t even unlocked the door._

Weakly, she pulled herself slightly away from the other woman’s touch, attempting a half-hearted protest. “Lena…” she began, but whatever she had intended to say came out more as a desperate whine when the younger woman’s lips found a particularly pleasurable spot.

“ _Fuck,_ ” she gasped, her back arching slightly, wishing she could feel the soft curves of the body behind her rather than just the hard metal casing of the chronal accelerator.

Angela was a few moments from melting right then and there. Her eyes had already closed in pleasure and she had nearly given up on the door, but finally, through nothing but sheer luck, her fingers managed to find the key slot. She undid the lock, and finally, _finally_ , they were able to enter her quarters.

Vaguely, Angela heard the door slam shut behind them, the sound of the latch clicking once again into place already forgotten as she spun around, her fingers weaving into Lena’s thick, spiky hair and tugging the shorter woman into a passionate kiss.

Lips met, and tongues danced, slick and hot and fervent and _wet._ Lena’s breathing hitched in her throat, and she gasped as Angela’s hand found one of her breasts over her t-shirt. The tight fabric outlined it perfectly, giving Angela exactly the access she needed to feel every centimeter as she took the soft flesh in her hand, grinning against the brunette’s increasingly urgent kisses.

Their legs intertwined, subconsciously seeking more complete contact as that delicious warmth settled even more firmly in their lower abdomens. Angela felt herself being guided backwards until her calves reached the foot of the bed, and she let herself be lowered to the sheets, not breaking contact with Lena’s lips for a single moment.

Her lips were like an addiction, and Angela couldn’t help but moan at their responsiveness, hopelessly smitten as she worked her tongue back into the other woman’s mouth.

The pilot melted further into her, her entire weight now resting on the doctor’s body. Their tangled legs created the perfect friction like this, and Angela felt the woman above her shudder at the stimulation. Lena’s breaths were quick and desperate now, unable to maintain their kiss for more than a few seconds before the need for respiration became too great, leaving her gasping hotly against Angela’s lips. She kept trying, though, until Angela’s hand finally returned to her breast and began to palm the soft flesh, at which point she broke away, her eyes shutting tightly as she panted into her lover’s neck.

The access was limited like this, however, given both their position and the intrusion of the chronal accelerator, so Angela gave one of the device’s straps a gentle, experimental tug to draw Lena’s attention to it. “Are you okay with taking this off?” she asked, carefully watching the younger woman’s expression as she froze her movements, pulling back so she could sit up and meet the doctor’s gaze.

She could see Lena’s eyes briefly clouding with fear, and Angela was about to tell her to forget the idea. The last thing she wanted was to make the younger woman uncomfortable, or even worse, have another panic attack, just because Angela had not noticed or cared for her needs properly. So if the chronal accelerator was a sore subject, she would not even ask twice, and would be more than happy to work around the heavy, metallic apparatus.

It took a moment, but the uncertainty on Lena’s face gradually faded. She smiled at the doctor, seeming to have changed her mind. “I think I can manage… It might be keeping me _here_ , but _you’re_ the one keeping me okay up here,” she said, smiling affectionately as she tapped a finger against the side of her head. Then, before the doctor could react, Lena pulled her into another heated kiss. “God, I’ve missed you so much, love. I want to _feel_ you. Properly. Without any walls _or_ accelerators _or clothes_ in the way, yeah?”

Angela shivered slightly at the brunette’s tone, so full of passion and desire and _trust_ that the only response she could think of was to add even more tongue to their sultry kiss. When she eventually pushed the brunette away, so that she was straddling her hips once again, the other woman couldn’t help but let out a soft _whine_ at the loss of contact.

“Let me know if you want me to stop,” Angela whispered, starting to help Lena to undo the straps of her accelerator. “And I will stop in a heartbeat, alright?”

Lena nodded, and began to help her, watching her dexterous fingers work with a scorching gaze. A look of fear crossed her face once or twice at being divested of the device, but whenever it did, she ran her fingers Angela’s side or intertwined them with the doctor’s, in order to remind herself once again that she was truly safe.

Eventually, every strap was undone, and Angela lifted the chronal accelerator over Lena’s head, then set it carefully on the ground, right next to her bedside table. Lena closed her eyes once, giving herself a moment to calm down and let her breathing steady before she dived back into their kiss, moaning at the unrestricted feel of the doctor’s body against her own.

“I love you, Angela,” Lena murmured against her neck, sucking at the doctor’s pulse point in a way that made her back arch.

“Ah… I… love you too, Lena,” the doctor stuttered in response, her mind hazing with heat. Her hands were once again on Lena’s backside, pulling their hips tightly against each other, and causing both women’s panting to grow loud and unashamed as even their smallest movements created a magnificent friction between them.

Angela was quickly losing patience with the other woman’s clothing, so she stopped running her fingers along Lena’s taught abdomen just long enough to slip her t-shirt over her head. And while Lena’s sports bra was cute, Angela needed it _off_ , and urgently pulled the skintight fabric off as well, so that it could immediately join the shirt on the ground.

Mustering her strength, Angela flipped them over, leaving the brunette sprawled below her, her pupils dilated with lust until there was only a thin ring of brown remaining to betray the natural color of her eyes.

She latched onto Lena’s breast, staring directly into those heated eyes as her tongue laved generous attention across every inch of the smooth, perky flesh. Her lips closed around a hardened nipple, and the woman below her _moaned._ Not the quiet, delicate moans she had been letting out so far, but an aroused, fervent, ‘I want you to fuck me right now’ moan, that made Angela suddenly aware of how hard it was to _breathe_ , much less think.

She teased at the firm bud with her tongue, relishing in Lena’s unashamed reactions to her caresses. Then, she tested it gently with her teeth, and Lena’s back arched, the brunette pushing her chest more firmly against the warm mouth, so _unbelievably sensitive_ to Angela’s touch that it sent a spike of arousal coursing through her.

Then, just as Lena became accustomed to that sensation, Angela switched sides, eliciting even more glorious noises as she moved to make the other breast just as shiny and slick as the first with her hot, wet kisses.

As the young woman’s hips stuttered once more, looking for some kind of friction, Angela finally relented, not releasing Lena’s breast from her mouth, but allowing one of her hands to begin a slow descent along Lena’s body, her short fingernails trailing teasingly against the firm, tense expanse of Lena’s stomach before finally reaching the waistband of her form-fitting athletic pants.

Angela’s fingers were delicate, their touch almost undetectable when she first brushed her fingers against the fabric’s seam. The blonde let out a gasp, feeling the heat practically _radiating_ from Lena’s core even through the layers of material that covered it, and increased the pressure. Immediately, Lena cried out, her entire body letting out another violent shiver as her libido spiked even further, her hips automatically bucking into the sensation.

The taller woman smiled against her flushed skin, taking the opportunity to draw yet another shudder from her by teasing her nipple once more with her teeth. She released Lena’s breast, the suction breaking with an erotic little pop, then reached down with both hands to catch the waistbands of Lena’s pants and underwear, backing away as she dragged them down her long, muscular legs.

But before she could climb back up Lena’s nude body, the other woman sat up, tugging at the hem of Angela’s shirt. “Off,” she said breathlessly. “All of it. I wanna touch you too, you know.”

“Of course,” Angela grinned, kissing those addictive lips once more before standing and allowing her own clothes to join Lena’s on the floor. Briefly, she wished she had worn sexier underwear, but that thought dissipated immediately when she saw the look of pure _lust_ on Lena’s face.

This was her favorite bra for a reason, after all. It made her boobs look _amazing_.

She smirked as she loosened her hair from its normal messy ponytail, giving it a little shake so it would fall more naturally. That done, she made sure to make the removal of her underwear into as much of a show as possible before crawling back up the bed to lock lips once again with the now unbelievably flustered brunette.

They gasped into each other’s mouths as their tongues met once again, wasting no time in resuming their erotic dance. Grinning once again against Lena’s panting mouth, Angela’s fingers slid down her torso once again, teasing briefly at the skin directly above Lena’s sex before _finally_ coming to rest between her thighs.

Lena let out a broken little cry and _trembled_ at the sensation, her eyes closing involuntarily as Angela’s finger began to make its presence known, beginning to slide its length in languid strokes up and down between slick folds.

She moaned again, noisily, her bottom lip between her teeth as her passionate eyes locked once more with Angela’s, holding the other woman close with both hands. Her hips jerked once again against the fingers between her legs, which were currently collecting the substantial wetness that had formed there, gliding easily along the slippery flesh of her sex.

Lena pulled Angela even closer, and began to rock her hips rhythmically against the motion. “I’m… I’m really glad… _fuck_ …” she stuttered between cute little gasps of pleasure. “I’m really glad I… _ah_ … had enough time alone… yesterday… to shave. Because I… _holy shit, Angie…_ I really, _really_ want… you to go down on me right now.”

Somehow, despite her complete lack of coherent thoughts, Angela managed to gasp out a response of her own. “ _Ah…_ Me too, darling,” she groaned, pushing her shoulder-length hair out of her face before sliding down until she rested between Lena’s legs. There, she began to trace a finger gently around those flushed, glistening folds, drawing a teasing little border around Lena’s sex until she was practically gasping for relief, her legs trembling around Angela’s head.

Then, finally, she brought her mouth to meet the swollen flesh, her lips sealing around Lena’s sex and giving a single, long, slow suck.

The moan Lena let out was _musical_. She _shivered_ , her entire body giving into the sensuality of the moment as her thighs clenched tightly against Angela’s head.

“Oh my _God_ , love,” Lena groaned, her voice husky and seductive with barely controlled arousal. “ _Please_ , keep doing that.”

So Angela did, letting her own moan of pleasure vibrate deeply in her throat, and she could swear she saw actual _tears_ in Lena’s eyes before her eyelids closed and her head rolled back, her hips twitching fiercely against the blond woman’s mouth.

She added a bit of tongue, now, slightly parting those wonderfully soft folds as she slid the flat part of the muscle upwards in a teasing lick that left the other woman whimpering, one hand tightly clenching the bedsheets while the other tangled in Angela’s hair.

Seeing the reactions it drew from the brunette, she repeated that combination over and over, intermittently breaking her pattern of licking and sucking by pushing the tip of her tongue slightly _into_ the tight channel of Lena’s sex, being rewarded with a desperate whine every time she did so.

Lena was moaning constantly now, every urgent breath bringing with it those exquisite sounds of arousal as her hips rocked insistently against Angela’s mouth. She turned her head to the side, hiding her face in the pillow as she removed her hand from Angela’s hair, moving it to clutch desperately at her own breast as every nerve practically hummed with energy.

The pilot was on a hair trigger, so close to her first release in more than a year. Her sex clenched urgently, begging for stimulation as Angela’s tongue found her most sensitive bundle of nerves, applying friction right where she needed it to bring her over the edge.

And just like that, Lena went completely silent as she plunged over the waterfall.

For several long moments, Lena’s face formed a perfect ‘O’ as her mind entered freefall, Angela’s mouth providing the perfect amount of pressure to work her through the most powerful climax of her life. Her entire body shuddered erratically, her muscles attempting to release some of tension through their little involuntary spasms, making the doctor moan against her trembling sex.

It took more than a minute for her to come back to Earth.

Her eyes opened slowly, the occasional aftershock still causing the odd tremor in her legs or abdomen, her entire body _radiant_ in the afterglow. She smiled cutely at the doctor. “Oh my _God,_ love _._ That was… _brilliant_.” She pulled the doctor back up, not caring for the sticky wetness coating Angela’s lips as she captured them in a passionate kiss.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Angela replied, arousal making voice breathier and her accent heavier than usual. Just watching Lena come undone, even without being touched herself, had brought Angela more pleasure than she could describe, and she found herself eager for more.

Her hand slipped between them once again, fingers pressing to Lena’s still-twitching sex, immediately drawing another moan from the shorter woman. “Bloody hell,” she gasped. “You sure you don’t want me to do you before we go for another round?”

“After this,” Angela muttered against her lips. “I’ve missed hearing you moan.”

 _“Fuck,”_ was all Lena managed in response as her hips bucked once more against the increasing pressure.

Two of Angela’s fingers pressed firmly against Lena’s sex, beginning to work themselves in small circles. Hoping that Lena was already slightly more accustomed to sexual contact, and thus slightly less sensitive, Angela felt more comfortable pressing intermittently against Lena’s clitoris, expecting that she was not about to accidentally cause extreme overstimulation.

Lena’s cheeks pinkened once again at the motions, her eyelids becoming heavy as arousal pooled once more within her. Angela returned her mouth to her nipple, helping the flesh to harden once again with a few determined swipes of her tongue. Lena’s breath quickened, little gasps and moans leaving her lips as she felt herself rapidly begin to approach the peak once again, the residual stimulation from her first quickly pushing her toward a second.

The way Lena’s sex had all but _fluttered_ as she climaxed, only just noticeable against the tip of Angela’s tongue, had the doctor moaning against her breast, anxious to feel it happen again.

Maybe this time, she would use her fingers.

The doctor grinned at the idea, then used her mouth to ensure her index finger was thoroughly lubricated before she returned it to Lena’s folds. She slid it through the copious, built-up wetness there several times, further guaranteeing it would be as slippery and comfortable as possible. Then, she began to slide inside Lena’s _unbelievably_ tight channel.

The tip of her index finger pushed inside, not even making it to the first knuckle before Lena let out a sharp gasp at the feeling, her breaths becoming very quick as she _struggled_ to relax her abdominal muscles enough to even permit entrance to _just one_ of Angela’s slender fingers.

The doctor let out a loud groan. Lena’s inner walls were _so soft_ , clenching snugly around Angela’s index finger in a way that made her brain go fuzzy.

She began to gently push it farther inside, giving the young woman plenty of time to relax around the appendage, but it hardly moved any further before Lena’s rushed, urgent breaths changed in tone completely, becoming a harsh, tense panting, and the brunette suddenly flinched away from the unwelcome sensation.

“Ow,” she winced, and Angela instantly removed her finger, her own arousal dying away quickly at the look of discomfort on Lena’s face. “ _Ow…_ I don’t… Bloody hell, I don’t think I like that, love.”

Lena actually looked _guilty,_ and the doctor could hardly believe it, much less allow her to keep thinking she owed Angela any kind of apology.

“I’m sorry, Angie. I wanted to let you _try_ at least, but I…” Angela never heard the rest of it, because she cut it off with a quick kiss.

“You have _nothing_ to apologize for, Lena. Do you really think I’m the kind of person that would blame you for having preferences in bed? _Nobody_ should do that to _anyone,_ understand?”

“Yeah, but a lot of girls like that kind of thing, so I just wanted…”

“No buts, Lena,” she replied, looking deeply into the younger woman’s eyes. “If I ever… _ever_ do something that makes you uncomfortable, or even if I look like I might, I want you to tell me, and I will stop _immediately._ No questions asked. _Especially_ when we’re having sex, okay?”

Lena nodded her acknowledgement, claiming the doctor’s lips in her own once more. She remained silent for a few more moments before piping up.

“Hey, Angela?”

“Yes, Lena?”

“I think penetration is a bit of a turn-off for me,” she stated, a little unnecessarily, a smile breaking across her face at Angela’s answering giggle. “I just don’t think I can relax that much right now. It’s just too much… sensation… all at once, and I’m a bit more sensitive than usual. Maybe… we can try again in the future?”

“Only if that’s something _you_ want to try,” Angela replied, giving her girlfriend another kiss. It was meant to be chaste, but Lena’s tongue demanded entrance, and the doctor gasped in surprise. “Are you sure you want to keep going? We can call it a night if you want.”

Lena shook her head, chasing Angela’s lips. “Only if that’s what _you_ want to do,” she said, grinning at the opportunity to use the other woman’s own words against her. She paused, waiting for any sign that the blond woman was uncomfortable continuing and seeing none, she began to press her thigh coyly against the other woman’s sex. “Because I seem to recall someone skipping her turn, and I rather think she’s waited long enough, don’t you?”

“Oh,” Angela replied intelligently, heat rushing to her face as that knot of arousal in her lower abdomen returned, even more intensely than before. But, ever the gentlewoman, she had to be absolutely certain. “Are you completely sure you don’t want me to go down on you again first?” she asked breathily. “You seemed to be pretty close.”

The pilot nodded, her brown spikes bouncing a little at the movement, her gaze turning a little hungry. “Oh, I do. But it’ll take me a second to get going again anyway, so maybe after your turn.” She _licked her lips._ “Right now, I really want you to sit on my face.”

_Oh._

Angela let out a low groan at the suggestion, her hips rocking against Lena’s insistent thigh as their lips came together once more, their tongues once again resuming their intimate dance. It was as if in that moment, her body suddenly chose to remind her just how aroused she still was, and the feeling of Lena’s hard nipples brushing against her own was just too good to ignore.

Lena trailed kisses along her jaw, reaching the shell of her ear, where she breathed huskily, “Come on, love. Don’t be shy, now.”

_Holy shit._

Angela sat up, resting her weight on her knees and blushing heavily as the woman below her made herself comfortable. She almost hadn’t realized how worked up she had gotten while touching Lena, but now, she was almost _panting_ in anticipation. She had never done this before with previous partners, but as she crawled up the bed, watching Lena’s heated gaze flick briefly down her body, she couldn’t quite figure out why.

 _“Fuck,”_ Angela gasped, feeling Lena’s lips begin to move against her, eagerly licking and sucking at her slippery folds. She grabbed the headboard with one hand, clenching it tightly while her other threaded its way into the pilot’s messy hair. Already, she found herself beginning to rock back and forth, grinding herself against the woman’s deft mouth as sparks shot through her body.

Lena let out a moan of her own, her lips _vibrating_ against Angela’s sex, whose muscles tensed as a surge of pleasure pulsed through her. She rocked a bit harder, but for a moment, she became worried she was crushing Lena. The young woman was breathing unsteadily through her nose, the wind of her panting breaths tickling Angela’s sex _perfectly,_ but nonetheless, she lifted herself slightly, trying to give Lena a bit more room to breathe.

The pilot was having none of that.

Wrapping her arms around Angela’s upper thighs, she pulled the blonde down against her mouth, settling more of her weight against her face until she could feel _every single movement_ of her jaw. Lena moaned happily, her eyes closing as she delicately worked her tongue into the taller woman’s folds.

 _“Fuck,_ Lena,” Angela gasped, feeling her hips take up an involuntary rhythm against Lena’s lips, grinding wantonly against her. She was getting _close._ The combination of Lena’s patient suction and clever tongue had her rapidly approaching the edge, her entire body coated in a light sheen of sweat as she neared the precipice.

Lena knew _exactly_ how much pressure to apply, and where, to leave Angela _whining_ her name. Several times, Angela could have sworn she would go straight over the edge, but Lena held her right before it, her mouth moving _just so_ to extend her pleasure for as long as possible.

Gasps and curses tumbled from the blonde’s mouth, her hips bucking involuntarily against the strong, lithe arms that now held them mostly in place, successfully preventing her from managing the long, deep grinding motion that would quickly bring herself to conclusion.

Lena showered attention on Angela’s most sensitive parts, her tongue precise in finding every little spot that made her lover’s vision blur around the edges.

And with Angela right on the precipice, Lena looked up, her eyes once again meeting the sensually lidded gaze of her partner, relishing for just a moment the way her pupils seemed to completely fill those beautiful blue irises. Then, their eyes still locked together, Lena _moaned_ into her sex, and finally, the thread that was holding Angela to the world snapped.

Every nerve exploded with pleasure, her hips grinding automatically into Lena’s mouth as her entire body trembled, her mind feeling as if it were floating on air. For what seemed like an eternity, the pleasure pulsed through her, her inner walls clenching vigorously against the brunette’s tongue as it continued to draw out her climax until her vision went white.

Then, just as she began to come down, she felt the thread suddenly tighten before snapping once again, the brunette’s languid strokes sending her directly into a second climax, hot on the heels of the first. Angela’s muscles shook with the effort, and when the last of the aftershocks eventually died away, she let out a satisfied sigh as her body was filled with glorious warmth.

Slowly, Angela became aware of the other woman’s labored attempts at breathing, and she suddenly realized that she had all but fallen over while straddling Lena’s face, unintentionally obscuring both her nose and mouth in the process. Immediately, she slid backwards until she was sitting on Lena’s hips once again, finally allowing her to draw in a massive breath.

“Sorry,” the doctor muttered. “I didn’t mean to nearly suffocate you.”

Lena giggled, wiping away some of the slick that was practically dripping down her chin. “Occupational hazard, love. As long as it was good for you, I’m happy.”

“You have no idea,” the doctor replied dreamily, rolling them onto their sides and meeting Lena in another passionate kiss, their legs tangling together once again.

Angela would have been content to simply fall asleep like that, but she was quickly disturbed by the feeling of heated, slick flesh grinding insistently against her thigh.

“Fuck, Angie,” Lena muttered as she moved, her voice still husky with desire. “If you’re still up for that round two, I’m really properly ready now. That was too bloody hot.”

So, with a grin, the doctor slipped down Lena’s body once again.

After all, they had all night long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said a while ago that I project on Lena a lot? Yeah.... I guess I should explain some of this chapter's plot, so here comes the oversharing.
> 
> Contrary to what a lot of people will have you believe, most girls (doesn't matter what sexuality btw) have a much easier time getting off during oral or other exterior stimulation rather than with anything inside. A few, though, (like me, and therefore Lena in this scene) can end up getting a little turned off by anyone trying to put anything in, and have a really really hard time relaxing things down there, to the point where even just a finger or two just hurts. All I can say is, it's lucky that we're both really gay, so that isn't so much of a problem XD
> 
> Also, I have to say it because it hurts my soul (you probably noticed I mentioned they have short nails in this). LONG NAILS AINT GOING ANYWHERE NEAR MY BITS. Honestly, I don't know how some of the people in the... let's say... suggestive videos online manage not to scream in pain when anyone tries to put those razors inside them.
> 
> And finally, I did imply that Angela and Lena both shave, partly because I have to wonder why so many people think all lesbians hate shaving down there. Some of them do, sure, but going down on someone (or having someone go down on you) is AMAZING, and the LAST thing I wanna be dealing with is pulling hair out of my teeth.
> 
> Also, btw, I didn't mention this in any of the previous sexy chapters, but safe sex is always important. I didn't have the characters talk about it, since it's not much fun to write nor read about, but even during oral, you should always wear a condom or a dental dam unless you're sure the other person doesn't have anything contagious (Angela knew Lena didn't have anything since she had recently done a checkup on her, and with Fareeha, she wasn't really thinking clearly anyways)
> 
> So anyway, now that I've shared WAY too much, let me know what you thought about the chapter :) It was surprisingly fun to write, so I really hope it's at least as much fun to read


	6. Her Lips Are a Drug, and I'm Addicted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, loves! Here's the next installment of this story, and it's pretty much all fluff. Like, a lot of fluff :) These two deserve a chance to be happy and romantic for a bit!
> 
> Quick warning for this chapter: the first part is basically a 'morning after' section, so there is nudity. Also, there are implications and references to sexual situations (Genji is too observant for his own good). There's nothing explicit, but I wanted to make sure to let you all know.
> 
> Summary of the previous chapter: Lena and Angela have sex, and Angela discovers just how deeply Lena trusts her when Lena actually draws comfort from her so she can get through the fear of taking off her accelerator. Also, they end up finding out a bit more about each other, including discussing some of Lena's preferences in bed, and further deepening the trust between them.

Angela slowly regained consciousness, the mid-morning spring sunshine gently caressing her cheek with warmth.

She felt lethargic and relaxed, a warm, deeply satisfied glow radiating from her heart all the way to her fingertips, making her feel almost as if she could sink into the soft mattress. Her limbs were heavy, and she wished she could drift back to sleep, knowing that waking up could only disturb the feeling of utter calm that had settled down on her. Her right arm was a little numb, but she was too comfortable to move it, much less wonder why it felt that way.

She sighed happily, cuddling farther into the source of warmth in her arms, enjoying the feeling of her body pressing comfortably against naked skin.

For a moment, she was confused by that sensation. Waking up beside someone was a luxury she had all but forgotten, and it took some time before the memories of the previous night filtered into her languid brain.

Her eyes opened slowly, blinking at the light that streamed in through the open window, before coming to rest on the source of that agreeable weight that was just starting to restrict her arm’s blood flow.

Lena lay beside her, tucked warmly into the taller woman’s arms, the smooth expanse of her back pressing pleasantly against Angela’s bare chest. Their bodies fit together perfectly, every rise and dip aligning like puzzle pieces, and Angela let her eyes close once again in satisfaction.

She would change nothing about this moment. Nothing from the way Lena’s thick brown hair gently tickled her face, to the way the rounded musculature of Lena’s backside lined up so effortlessly with her pelvis. Not even the way she was steadily losing feeling in her right arm as it rested beneath the other woman, the appendage steadily going numb as the two women spooned together closely.

Angela couldn’t remember the last time she had awoken feeling this _comfortable_ , and she felt yet another rush of fondness for the woman in her arms. She lifted her left hand, the one currently splayed contentedly against Lena’s firm stomach, and slid it out of the sheets so she could lovingly trail her fingertips up and down the pilot’s side.

Her heart swelled with warmth, the casual intimacy of the moment making her wish it would never end.

They stayed like that for quite some time, with Angela content to simply feel the other woman’s deep, regular breathing against her chest. Once or twice, her fingers slid upwards, taking a few moments to run through the brunette’s soft, spiky hair, before inevitably returning down again so they could continue to trace meaningless shapes against her skin.

However, nothing lasts forever, and the moment was eventually broken by the ever-rising sun, when the same beam that had awoken Angela reached the sleeping woman’s face. She felt Lena’s breathing shift, her deep, regular breaths losing their predictable rhythm as she was slowly roused.

She let out a comfortable sigh, much like Angela had earlier, and rubbed her eyes. Then, she turned herself onto her other side, remaining in the doctor’s arms so she could meet her loving gaze with an adorably sleepy one of her own.

“Morning, love,” she mumbled with a little smile, content to let her girlfriend’s fingers continue their tender patterns on her skin. “Sleep well?”

Angela grinned widely, carefully tucking a few errant strands behind Lena’s ear before leaning forward to claim those enticing lips in a soft kiss. “Never better,” she replied. “You?”

The shorter woman immediately melted into it, smiling against her lips. “Mm… same,” she murmured when they broke apart. Brown eyes met blue once again, adoring and warm and passionate all at once. “You have no idea how much I missed sleeping with you,” Lena said, her cheeks turning a little pink when she realized her own innuendo. “In… in both ways, obviously.”

Angela chuckled, unable to prevent her own cheeks from heating at the memory as she cupped Lena’s face with her free hand as they slipped into another slow, relaxed kiss. “Me too, Lena.”

The blonde felt Lena’s hands on her hips, somehow pulling their bodies even closer together so that she could relish in the human contact that she had missed so desperately. They had no idea for how long they stayed like that, their lips unhurried and lethargic against each other and their hands gentle and adoring as they traced intimately over every single spot on each other’s naked bodies.

At some point, they slipped from the sheets and moved to the shower, spending far longer than they should under the refreshing deluge, ensuring that every single millimeter of each other’s skin was properly lathered and cleaned.

Even once they had left the bathroom, their hair still damp from their shower, they had been unable to keep their hands off each other for more than a few minutes. Still finding no reason for clothing, they had found themselves making out on the couch, with Angela leaning back against the cushions and Lena eagerly straddling her lap when their lips inevitably demanded contact once again.

Ultimately, though, it was the insistent gnawing of hunger that convinced them not to spend the entire day in Angela’s quarters. And even though the doctor in Angela knew they needed to replenish their energy, she could not help but regret the end of their romantic and sensual morning.

Now fully dressed, and with the chronal accelerator once again firmly anchored to Lena’s chest, they made their way to the mess hall, arriving just in time for lunch.

It really was a sign of how smitten they were with each other that it took Angela as long as it did to notice how crowded the dining hall was. Having spent every mealtime with Lena since the chronal chamber was activated, Angela could hardly remember the last time she had actually eaten in the dining hall, especially on a Saturday, so she was rather shocked by the commotion.

Boisterous conversations and loud laughter permeated the air as they searched for a place to sit, with shouted greetings and the clatter of silverware only adding to the overall ruckus. The doctor couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed, and she _hadn’t_ spent the last year in near-total isolation. She could only imagine how Lena felt…

But if Lena were feeling any unease at the sudden overexposure to humanity, she hid it well. She smiled coyly at the doctor, pushing her into a seat and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’ve been bringing me lunch every day, love. It’s time for me to return the favor.”

Angela opened her mouth to protest that the other woman didn’t owe her anything, but she was cut off by a finger pressed against her lips. “Shh,” Lena said, her eyes bright. “I’ll be back in a tick, yeah? You just stay here and let me do something nice for my beautiful girlfriend.”

The blond woman thought for a moment, and eventually gave in. If Lena thought she could brave the chaos of the cafeteria alone, the last thing Angela wanted to do was to seem patronizing toward her, or make her feel useless or incompetent.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t flirt with her a bit.

“Oh?” she replied with a smirk, cupping the other woman’s face in her hand. “A girlfriend? I don’t think we’ve met. Will I like her?”

Lena grinned and leaned in closely, her breath ghosting over Angela’s lips as she spoke. “I don’t know. You might. She’s brilliant, funny, attractive. And she’s got this beautiful golden hair that makes her look like an angel. Most days, I just wish I could run my hand through it and kiss her senseless…”

She leaned in a little farther, and Angela resisted the urge to lick her lips. “I’m sure your girlfriend would be open to that idea,” she whispered in reply before closing the final millimeters of distance between them.

It was remarkable, she thought as their lips met once again, that no matter how much they did it, she never seemed to get tired of kissing Lena.

It was like an addiction, and she just couldn’t get enough, with even mere minutes apart leaving her wanting more. She was a little disappointed at how brief it was when Lena pulled away, smirking once more before walking away to retrieve their meals.

Angela watched her go, trying unsuccessfully to prevent her eyes from drifting down to the other woman’s backside, those tight athletic pants drawing her gaze once again.

“You’re staring, Angela,” came a familiar voice from beside her, amusement clear in his voice as the doctor almost fell out of her chair in shock.

“Genji!” she exclaimed, whipping around, her heart racing at his unexpected appearance. “I swear, you’re going to give me a heart attack one day.”

The ninja chuckled. “My apologies. Although I don’t believe I could have alerted you to my presence without doing so. You seemed rather distracted.”

Angela blushed, knowing she had been caught. “How long have you been there?”

“A few minutes,” came the amused reply. “I was planning to announce myself in some way, but you two were otherwise preoccupied.”

The doctor felt her blush deepen a little in embarrassment, especially when some particularly boisterous laughter from the table behind them reminded her once again of the size of the crowd, and of how unlikely it was that Genji was the only one that had seen their kiss.

“Although maybe I shouldn’t make fun,” Genji continued pensively, but his eyes betrayed him with their mischievous glint. “In fact, if you can leave each other looking the way you do, I should probably be asking you for advice. You had a good night, I take it?”

“Wha… what do you mean?” Angela replied, her face bright red now at the implication.

The cyborg nodded, chuckling once more. “Both of you, actually. You’re both still practically _glowing._ It was hardly very difficult to put two and two together.”

Angela didn’t think it was possible to flush any harder, but she did. Was it really that obvious? And while there would always be the people guessing and gossiping, _advertising_ her sex life to them was not exactly what she had intended.

Still, despite the embarrassment, she couldn’t help but feel a little flattered as she glanced at Lena and saw that Genji was right. The other woman’s face had just a bit more color than normal, the pink concentrating a little in her cheeks to give her a hint of a healthy flush. Her movements too, even doing something as simple as collecting two trays from the counter, were clearly relaxed and deliberate, as if her muscles were not quite back to their normal efficiency.

And, realizing that she could still feel some of that comfortable glow radiating from her chest to her fingertips, Angela didn’t even need a mirror to know she looked exactly the same.

She felt Genji’s metal hand come to rest on her shoulder. “I’m happy for you, Angela. Recently, the world has been so full of darkness; I’m glad you have found your light.”

Even though she was feeling rather self-conscious by now, there was so much kindness in her friend’s voice, that she couldn’t help but pull him into a hug. “Thank you, Genji.”

As always, he was taken by surprise at the affectionate gesture, but after several moments, he reciprocated the embrace. “Of course, Angela. You’re my friend, and to see you suffering as you were…” he trailed off, looking upset. “I only wish that I had been able to help ease your pain, to remind you that you were not alone. But unfortunately, Commander Reyes has been driving all of Blackwatch exceptionally hard, especially after Moira deserted. I hardly even saw Master Zenyatta for months.”

“It isn’t your fault,” the doctor said, squeezing him once more before releasing their embrace. She gave him a smile. “Things just felt so bleak for a while, I thought I was going mad when I first saw Lena reappear. But she’s been helping me a lot, even being trapped in that chamber for so long. She gave me a reason to smile again.”

“I can tell,” he said with a grin of his own. “You’ve hardly stopped smiling since I mentioned her. She makes you happy.”

“She really does,” Angela confirmed, feeling her eyes moisten a little at the memory of just how close to the brink she had really been before the plucky Brit pulled her back. She surreptitiously wiped her eyes. “But enough about me, what about yourself? How is Master Zenyatta?”

Genji’s smile grew wide, his eyes twinkling. In that moment, Angela realized just how much Zenyatta had really been helping him. For years, Genji had suffered, his cyborg body making him feel like little more than a shell of a man. But now, it seemed like nothing short of a miracle to see her old patient smile so freely, all due to the Omnic monk’s careful meditation and guidance. “He’s been helping me so much, Angela,” Genji replied. “He’s been helping me to learn to accept myself for who I am now. Just because I am part machine now, does not make me any less than anybody else. I am unique, and I am beginning to accept that.”

The doctor felt her heart swell with happiness at her friend’s words. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” she replied.

She had planned to say more, but was shaken from her thoughts when a tray of food appeared before her and a familiar British accent made itself known. “Happy to hear what, love?”

Lena set her own tray on the table beside Angela, then suddenly recognized that her girlfriend must have been talking to the stranger on her other side. “Oh, hello. Sorry about that,” she said to him, looking apologetic as she stuck out her hand in greeting. “I don’t think we’ve met. Name’s Lena Oxton, what’s yours?”

Genji grinned at her obvious enthusiasm, and shook her outstretched hand. “Genji Shimada,” he replied. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Lena raised an eyebrow, then took her seat, a smirk toying at the edge of her lips. “Oh? Good things, I hope. That what you and Angie were talking about before I got here?”

Angela was about to respond, but she stopped herself. She wasn’t sure if Genji would be okay with sharing details about his past with someone he had just met. Luckily, she didn’t have to respond, as Genji had already begun replying, “More or less. Angela was just telling me about how much you make her smile.”

The doctor didn’t even need to look at him to know he was smirking as he said it. Lena’s eyes twinkled happily. “I’m glad I can make you smile, love. You have the most beautiful smile in the world,” she told her sincerely, as if she had never been more certain of anything.

Angela blushed brightly at the compliment delivered so genuinely. Lena had leaned toward her slightly, her hand reaching up to gently tuck a lock of the doctor’s soft blond hair behind her ear. She looked back at Lena through her lashes, trying not to give in to the urge to kiss her senseless. “Not… not as beautiful as yours,” she stuttered.

The pilot leaned in even further. Right before their lips met, she whispered, “Even if that were true, why do you think I’m smiling, hmm? It’s because I’m lucky enough to have the chance to see yours every day.”

It was the most romantic thing Angela had ever heard. She kissed Lena, as warmly and deeply as she ever had, relishing in the soft pressure of their lips pressing against each other yet again. For that comment alone, there was a part of her that wanted to drag the other woman right back to their quarters and pick up where they had left off last night, but they managed to keep things mostly chaste. Suddenly remembering that they were not alone, Angela pulled away reluctantly, sharing one last loving look with Lena before turning apologetically to the cyborg. “Sorry about that, Genji,” she muttered, glancing at him sheepishly.

He just chuckled, shaking his head. “You are both so unbelievably cute together. The only thing you have to apologize for is the cavities I’ll end up getting from this overload of sweetness.”

Angela swatted playfully at Genji’s arm for that, smiling and blushing.

Lena giggled, and chipped in, resting her arm on her girlfriend’s. “Of course she’s sweet. She’s cute and Swiss. And sweet things from Switzerland are the best kind. Have you tried their chocolate?”

Angela turned to Lena, a little starstruck. “You like Swiss chocolate too?” she asked.

“Of course, love. Hard not to, really. ‘S my favorite kind,”

Angela didn’t think it was possible to fall even more in love. “For our next date, if we can get a few hours away from the base, can we go into town? There’s an adorable little shop there, and it sells every flavor you can imagine, all made from scratch. It’s excellent, and I think you’ll love it.”

Genji chuckled, then stage-whispered to Lena in a mock warning. “Don’t fall for her trap, Lena. Once you and her start buying chocolates for each other, she’ll never let you stop. I’ve learned from experience.”

“I thought you would _like_ the chance to share a bit of chocolate with your friend!” Angela teased, glaring at him without heat. “But apparently, I was wrong. Besides, if I remember correctly, _you_ were the one that didn’t want me to be the only one buying.”

He grinned. “This may be true. But I’ll never admit it.”

Lena let out another giggle. “I think I’ll have to take my chances. There’s no way I’m saying no to a date in a quaint little town in the middle of the Alps.” Then, she looked down, using her fork to poke vaguely at the shapeless, vaguely beige-colored mass on her plate, and continued. “Besides, if they ever try to serve us this again, we might end up spending a lot more time in town anyway, just to buy food so we don’t starve… or get food poisoning. Bloody hell, what is this even supposed to be?”

Angela looked down at her own plate skeptically, then carefully cut into one of the strange lumps in the mass of beige, just to see what it was. But when she saw the strange doughy substance inside, she was at a loss.

She shrugged at Lena, who was still looking at her questioningly.

On her other side, Genji let out a sigh of exasperation, burying his head in his hands. The two women looked at him, their eyebrows raised. “I believe,” he began, shaking his head. He choked a bit, letting out the slightly strangled sound of badly concealed laughter, along with just a hint of disgust. “That a certain Jesse McCree may have successfully convinced the kitchen to try diversifying their meals. In his opinion, there were not enough ‘American comfort foods,’ and it appears that this is their attempt at ‘biscuits and gravy.’”

Lena looked absolutely horrified. “Those are _biscuits?”_ she asked, her voice rising in astonishment. “Why the bloody fuck would you put _biscuits_ in _gravy?”_ Then, her face went pale, and her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Oh, god, please tell me they at least aren’t _flavored_ biscuits. Normal ones would be bad enough, but chocolate? Or jelly?” She shuddered in disgust.

It took Angela a moment to understand Lena’s confusion, but when she did, she burst out in laughter. “Oh my god, you are _so British._ It’s an American food, remember? Americans would call what you just described, a cookie. I think their biscuits are supposed to be like a dry, doughy bread.”

The brunette looked a little embarrassed, letting out a chuckle of her own as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Right… Forgot about that one.” She poked at the plate once more, then looked doubtfully at Angela. “So they don’t have sugar?”

“I hope not,” the doctor replied, still giggling. “I don’t really know for certain. I’ve never tasted this dish before either.”

Lena gave the plate before her another highly skeptical look, then glanced at Angela, her eyebrow raised. “And it’s supposed to be this color?”

Angela shrugged, not really certain if the greyish-beige concoction were authentic, or just another of the dining hall’s culinary atrocities. Lena hesitantly picked up a tiny piece on her fork and gave it a nibble. She gagged, spitting it into her napkin immediately. “I hope the real thing is better than that, ‘cause this is _disgusting._ It’s like a weird scone, but _really bloody soggy,_ and it tastes like an old shoe. Also why’s it _so salty?”_

Angela sniffed at the food, then looked skeptically at Genji, who had been trying to hold in his laughter for several minutes by now. “Well, we shouldn’t expect too much from Overwatch’s dining hall,” she observed. “The chef here has managed to mess up boiling eggs before, so I wouldn’t expect too much.”

Genji laughed. “I have it on good authority that the chef is French, so how could the food be bad?”

The British woman giggled at his comment. “It’s because he’s trying to make food with a stove! See, the French never actually cook anything. It’s all just… raw. When I was still in school, I took my girlfriend, Emily, on a date to a French restaurant, and the guy a few tables down was eating ‘beef tartare,’ which apparently translates to ‘food-borne illness.’”

Angela snickered. “That is true. Eating uncooked foods can be extremely hazardous to your health.”

“And don’t even get me started on the snails! So, what do you say, loves, wanna see if we can find a place in town to eat? I’m not too impressed with this ‘biscuits’ and gravy nonsense, and I don’t fancy waiting until dinner. Maybe after, you two can show me that chocolate place, yeah?”

Angela didn’t need asking twice. She swept the chef’s attempt at food into the garbage, and took the brunette’s hand. “I think that would be lovely, Lena.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Lena :) If you forget that biscuits are different between America and Britain, that dish really does sound properly horrifying. Also, what British character could resist the opportunity to joke about the French?
> 
> Anyway, I hope Genji wasn't the only one feeling the sweetness :) And if you liked it, kudos and comments are super appreciated! Knowing that people are still reading and enjoying this story gives me a lot of motivation to keep up the regular updates!


	7. Glitch (TW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Quick disclaimer before the chapter: Lena has a panic attack in this one, and its a bit more descriptive than it has been previously, so if that is in any way painful for you to read, I suggest skipping the second half of the part above the horizontal line. I'll include a summary in the notes of the next chapter, so don't worry about missing anything!

Lena set down the wrench, wiping at her forehead with her arm, and took a step back.

She glanced again at the schematics, making absolutely certain that everything she was doing was correct. Satisfied, she stood aside, giving the senior mechanic a chance to check her work.

He searched around inside the compartment for a few minutes, tweaking and jiggling several components to make sure everything was securely anchored to its correct place. Eventually, he turned to her and nodded his approval.

Not that he really needed to. While her repair work obviously needed to be approved before the fighter could actually return to the sky, even the schematics she had double-checked were probably overkill. It wasn’t exactly a difficult task, and while Lena didn’t consider herself an expert mechanic by any stretch of the imagination, she had picked up more than enough from her flight instructor’s rickety old Cessna to know how to change something as simple as a fuel pump.

Still, the acknowledgement was nice, and Lena felt herself grinning with pride as she helped her supervisor reattach the engine cowling.

She really didn’t want to be just some crippled test pilot that had only been offered a job because not doing so would look bad, given that she had almost been killed by one of Overwatch’s experimental planes. She wanted to have the chance to prove herself, and to show that she _was_ worthy of working for the world’s largest and most famous peacekeeping organization, even if it were simply as a low-level mechanic.

And when the effects of her displacement in spacetime could be properly determined, she might even be cleared to return to the sky herself, and then she could submit her application to become a fulltime pilot for Overwatch.

Of course, there was no shortage of other positions being offered to her as well. After all, what airline or tour company would not want to hire Tracer, the pilot whose seemingly miraculous return from the dead made just as many headlines as her initial disappearance?

But given the choice between that and working for her childhood heroes, side by side with a certain blond-haired doctor? There wasn’t even a contest.

Still, it felt strange seeing herself in the news.

It wasn’t as if she had accomplished anything that she should be proud of. Her disappearance was through nothing of her own doing, and the device to bring her back was something Winston and Angela had created, not her. It felt… uncomfortable, almost, to know that people knew her name.

But she knew she was just a temporary headline, and in a few months, people will have forgotten all about her. Now that she was stable and living a happy and healthy life, rather than being the recently-presumed-dead potential love interest of Overwatch’s most famous doctor, she would quickly become a great deal less interesting to the public.

Which Lena didn’t mind in the slightest. She didn’t particularly _want_ to be famous anyway, so if she fell out of the public eye, all it meant was that the chronal accelerator was doing its job well.

And _that_ was something she very much did care about. As long as the device was stabilizing her, making Lena Oxton just another ordinary, perfectly solid human being, she could almost pretend everything was normal, with nothing to set her apart except the minor addition of a rather sizeable glowing backpack.

In fact, it had been doing its job so well, that Lena almost didn’t notice when it malfunctioned for the first time.

Having just finished tightening the bolts on the engine housing, she stretched, then picked up her tools and wandered over to the tool chest near the nose of the aircraft to put them away. She was looking forward to seeing Angela again after a long day, and she was happily humming to herself as she turned back around, wiping her hands on an old rag to clear them of grease. At the back of the plane, her supervisor had now finished tightening his own set of bolts, and was performing a quick inspection, checking that every bolt was properly attached.

His eyes still on his task, he reached behind him, blindly attempting to return his own wrench to the heavy metal toolbox he had perched on top of a stepladder to his rear. He shifted his hand around, but when he eventually made contact with it, all it served to do was to bump it off of its precarious position.

The entire scene seemed to travel in slow motion: the weighty box of tools tipping from the stepladder as Earth’s inexorable gravity suddenly took control of its motion, starting to pull it towards the surface. It began its plunge to the floor, right on course to land extremely painfully on the kneeling man’s lower legs, and even a shout of warning would have arrived far too late for him to react.

Lena caught it.

Looking back on it, it should have been impossible. _Nobody_ could move that quickly. The former pilot had been _meters_ away, still standing the full length of the aircraft away from him. And she had just traversed its entirety almost instantly, snatching those kilograms of falling tools right out of the air.

_What?? Bloody hell, how’d I manage that?_

“You alright?” the senior mechanic asked, totally unaware of what had just transpired. He turned around, a little surprised to see the young woman back so quickly. “I just heard a weird sound back there.”

Lena giggled nervously, setting the toolbox in a far less precarious position on the floor. “Yeah, just be a little more careful where you put your kit, love. You could’ve hurt yourself.”

Understanding crossed his face, which rapidly transformed into a look of gratitude. “Oh, shit… Thank you so much,” he said, extremely gratefully. “God, I can be so clumsy sometimes.”

_Maybe I was closer to him than I thought. Last-minute reactions always feel so much more impressive than they actually are._

“No worries, mate,” she replied, giving him a pat on the back, then helped him to quickly finish cleaning up their workspace.

She had to have imagined the bluish blur at the edges of her vision while she covered that distance, right?

Somehow, she didn’t think she had. She clearly remembered being at the _other end_ of the plane. And as much as she thought she had imagined that little blur, there was no mistaking the way that distance had all but evaporated under her feet.

_Maybe I should have Angie check me out, just to make sure I’m not coming down with something._

Because either Lena had completely lost track of a second or two of her life, or something very strange was happening.

But was she really going to worry Angela over some weird moment of short-term memory loss?

She didn’t want to. She knew how hard the past year had been for the doctor, and now she had even started _smiling freely_ again. How guilty would Lena feel if she caused her more concern, especially over something that seemed so minor?

The dilemma ate away at her, but she then shook her head again. She and Angela had promised to be completely honest with each other, and if something were making Lena uncomfortable, her girlfriend would want to hear about it.

And if it turned out to be some kind of problem with her, or even worse, her chronal accelerator, Lena was _not_ just about to sit around and let it get worse.

She froze as that terrifying thought sank in. What if it were a problem with her _chronal accelerator?_

At the thought alone, Lena felt her breathing accelerate. What if she disappeared again? If it happened now, how long would it be until someone noticed she was gone? An hour? A day? A week? Lena didn’t think she could last that long…

And could they even get her back? If she returned to the void, what if it were permanent this time? Or if she did reappear, but in another city, or another country, way too far away for them to even find her, much less help her? Or if some accountant decided to cut their losses, because it was too expensive to retrieve her, and they stopped her friends from trying to rescue her again? After all, what was she to Overwatch but someone with a fancy experimental pacemaker anyway?

And they would be gone and she would be trapped in that world again, all alone… _Forever._

Lena could feel the cold sweat starting to form, beading on her forehead and clamming up her palms. She could practically see it now, that never-ending sea of pale blue drawing her into its surreal realm, her world becoming washed-out and nonphysical as reality slipped through her fingers.

The emptiness was surrounding her. Engulfing her. Choking her.

Tears blurred her vision as they rolled down her cheeks, only making her nightmare even worse. The salty liquid distorted her sight, making it harder and harder to distinguish between what she could actually see, and the terrifying visions her brain kept creating.

She felt like she was drowning, the walls of the hangar closing around her, taunting her with how unbelievably _deserted_ the room was. All this space, and no one to fill it. No one to talk to.

The emptiness was back. And it was hungry.

Somewhere, in the deepest recesses of Lena’s terrified mind, she must have realized she was having a panic attack. And that part of her brain was now the source of her only remaining coherent thought. She had to find Angela. _Now._

Tears still streaming down her face, Lena _sprinted_ out of the hangar, relying on instinct and muscle memory alone to carry her to the medical bay, and to the safe, reassuring arms that she needed so desperately.

And despite her pain and terror, it was probably for the best, because it was so severe that she completely missed her accelerator’s second malfunction.

Through her blurred vision, all she saw was the way the door flew open just as she reached for the handle, to which she _just barely_ reacted in time, jumping back from the swinging metal to avoid being hit.

Except, she did a great deal more than just jump backwards in space. Had Lena been paying attention, she might have realized that she had actually jumped backwards in _time_ as well. In her shock, the young woman ended up reversing, the world blurring around her until she arrived a few seconds in her own past, fallen tears once again unfallen, and more than a few gasping breaths yet to be taken.

But she didn’t notice any of this.

Instead, she sprinted inside the medical facility without a second thought, and barged right into Angela’s office without so much as a knock. And when those perceptive blue eyes met hers through her black-rimmed glasses, filling with concern at the state in which the young woman found herself, Lena could not help but to throw herself into Angela’s arms, sniffing as tears continued rolling their way down her face.

“Shh… What happened, love?” Angela asked, rubbing the shorter woman’s back in soothing patterns, and Lena let out a sob of relief at the sound of a voice that was not only real, but _familiar._ “It’s alright, now… I’m right here.”

“I… I don’t… _Please…_ I can’t… disappear again,” Lena begged haltingly, clutching tightly at the doctor’s warm embrace. Slowly, the sounds that were nothing but meaningless background noise began to emerge into clarity once more as she drew reassurance from the concerned blonde. She was _not_ alone. Here was a person. And she was real. And familiar. And best of all, she could _see Lena._

That reassurance alone was beginning to sap the ferocity from her panicked mental cycle. Lena wasn’t disappearing right now, and she knew that Angela would _never_ allow it to happen. Not if she had anything to say about it.

So with a long series of deep breaths, comforted by the arms wrapped around her shivering body, Lena was finally able to break free of the clutches of that mind-numbing fear that had consumed her.

Over the next few minutes, as Lena slowly regained enough composure to explain what had happened, she swore she fell in love all over again. Not once did those caring, compassionate sapphire eyes leave hers, listening intently and sympathetically to every single word, and somehow, Lena knew everything would be alright.

* * *

When Winston finally stepped back from his workbench, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, Lena didn’t know how to react.

The chronal accelerator lay before him, a Medusa’s head of wires protruding from its open maintenance panel, connecting it to the gorilla’s array of computers and sensors. He had been running tests on the device for well over an hour now, with no apparent success, and the tension was beginning to grate on Lena’s nerves.

Thankfully, with a lot of help from Angela, the panic from before had mostly died away, and especially now that Lena was once again safely within the protective confines of the stabilization chamber, she was finally able to breathe more comfortably.

But still, the chronal accelerator was her freedom, her life support system out in the real world, so it would be very hard to live a normal life if it had unpredictable reliability problems.

“Did you find anything, love?” Lena asked apprehensively.

Winston shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he replied, clearly lost in thought. “I couldn’t find any kind of issue with the accelerator’s systems, and it seems to be charged, so I don’t know what could have gone wrong.”

The pilot’s shoulders slumped. She had been afraid of a response like this: one where the problem was not just some minor tweak that Winston could make in a heartbeat, returning her to normal condition in the blink of an eye.

Instead, this was looking like something much, _much_ more complicated.

“Are you _sure_ you didn’t see anything else strange happening? No anomalies or anything like that?”

“Like I said, Winston. All I saw at work there was gravity,” Lena joked weakly.

Winston sighed and collapsed into a chair. “Then I have no idea. Maybe if there were some large electrical discharge nearby or something like that, it might explain it… but you would have seen that.”

Lena raised an eyebrow, the uncertainty leaving her resorting automatically to humor once again. “You mean if I got struck by lightning? Yeah, love, I think I probably would’ve noticed that.”

Beside her, Angela let out a little nervous chuckle of her own, clearly just as unhappy with the situation as she was.

“Not exactly,” Winston replied. “Just a strong electrical field might have been enough to interfere with the stabilization field. A few months ago, when Angela first noticed that you were still alive, your temporal field was messing with some of the electronics around the base, so they were clearly interacting somehow. Now, since your accelerator sends out the opposite frequency to yours, in order to cancel it out, if there were a really strong electrical field, or an EMP or something like that, there may have been a few moments where your field and the one from your accelerator were no longer in perfect sync, so you sort of… skipped.”

He paused for a moment, scratching his head. “Of course, it probably wouldn’t take a field nearly as strong if it occurred _between_ the two matrices of the accelerator, but then, like you said, you probably would have noticed, since electricity and humans don’t really mix.”

Some of that didn’t make much sense to Lena, but Angela seemed to be nodding in understanding. “How much weaker do you mean, Winston?” the doctor asked.

“Between the matrices? It would probably only take a few watts of power to make one strong enough. But outside? I’m not sure, but it would take a lot. There’s a reason I designed it with one in the front _and_ one in the back, you know,” the gorilla replied, seeming affronted at the mere idea that he would ever forget such an important feature.

Angela clapped her hands together in realization. “Then the shift must have been triggered by the natural electrical current in Lena’s nerves. The brain already generates several watts of power on its own, so that little boost of adrenaline when she saw someone about to get hurt might have been enough to tip things over the edge.”

Winston’s eyes lit up. “Of course. That must be it. The electricity in Lena’s brain must have been enough that when she tried to get there in time, she actually _did.”_

Lena looked back and forth between them, still not fully understanding what seemed so obvious to the other two. She considered herself a relatively smart person, but this level of theoretical physics was _way_ beyond her.

But it seemed like they were implying that just by wanting to, she could mess with her own chronal accelerator, altering the flow of her own time and effectively _teleporting_ from place to place.

And since Winston _had_ assured her that the device was safe, and that she wasn’t about to disappear again, that actually sounded… really _bloody cool._

“But why now?” Angela’s voice cut through Lena’s thoughts. “Why hasn’t this happened before? It simply isn’t possible that this was the _only time_ since she first put it on that she had enough brain activity to trigger this.”

Winston rubbed the back of his neck. “I think that might have been my fault. When I first finished the accelerator, I left its spectrum of temporal frequencies very broad, until I could be sure of exactly how stable Lena’s condition is. But because it draws much more power that way, I narrowed the frequency range a little, and I think that opened up a window for this to happen.”

“In English please, love,” Lena giggled.

Winston chuckled apologetically, then hurriedly clarified. “Sorry about that. Basically, I tuned the radio to too many stations at once, and it was wasting the battery, so I narrowed it down. But when I tuned it to pick up just one station instead, whenever your brainwaves change the station’s frequency slightly, we get nothing but static. Or in your case, you move faster than we can even see.”

Angela grinned. “So it should be an easy fix, then?”

“Absolutely,” the gorilla replied. “Changing it back should be no trouble at all.”

Which Lena thought was an absolutely excellent idea. Except… what if this was her chance? Every day, the news on the television looked more and more dire, with Talon and Null Sector and a dozen other threats growing in strength like never before. The world needed heroes, and maybe now she would not have to simply stand aside and watch others do all the work.

The agents of Overwatch put themselves in danger every day, and it felt unfair that she was not sharing some of that danger. This was her world too, after all. And not for the first time, Lena was reminded of the fact that Angela was one of those agents, and could be sent on a dangerous mission at almost any time. If things continued to heat up, Lena didn’t think she could bear to be left behind, praying for her girlfriend’s safety while she went off to battle without her.

So maybe… just maybe… she could learn to use this little glitch to her advantage. Perhaps they would even let her become an agent, and she could actually fight alongside Mercy as Lena… no… _Tracer,_ the girl that could move so quickly that if someone did so much as blink, they would miss it.

Seeing Winston’s fingers begin to access the accelerator’s circuits, Lena took her chance. “Winston?” she asked, waiting for him to look up at her before continuing in a much more timid voice than was usual for her. “Do you think you could actually leave it like this?”

Angela and Winston stared at her in shock. “I mean…” Lena continued. “You said it’s not dangerous, right? If I’m not going to disappear again, maybe I’ll have a chance to actually make a difference in the world, you know? If I can learn to control it, I’m sure Commander Morrison would love to have an agent that can teleport.”

The doctor shook her head determinedly. “Please don’t put yourself in unnecessary danger, Lena,” she said. “I don’t think I could bear it if something were to happen to you.”

“And you think it would be any better for me if _you_ got hurt or killed?” she replied immediately, unable to help the way her eyes teared up a bit at the mere thought of anything of the sort happening to the woman that meant so much to her. “You’re already an agent, and we’ve been really lucky so far that you haven’t been called off on any missions for a while. You think I could just wait here for _if_ you come back? I’d much prefer being there together so we can keep each other safe.”

Lena could see that Angela wanted to protest further, but she eventually gave in and nodded her head in resignation. Obviously, she could see the logic behind Lena’s proposal, even if she didn’t have to like it.

Meanwhile, Winston seemed lost in thought. “That’s actually a pretty good idea, Lena,” he said after a few moments’ speculation. “If you can move anywhere near as quickly as you described, just you and a set of close-range pulse pistols would be almost unstoppable!”

“So we can do it?” Lena asked, somewhere in between excited and terrified.

“Of course,” the gorilla replied with a smile. “In fact, I might even be able to make a few modifications to make it easier to control. If I can tune its frequency to react to certain brainwave patterns, with a bit of practice, you should find it almost as easy as walking.”

“Thanks, love!” Lena cheered with a wide grin.

And it was with faint surprise that the pilot realized just how much she meant it. This was her chance to start making a real difference in the world, just as she’d always dreamed, and she was not about to waste it.

_Watch out, you Talon wankers. You’ll never see me coming._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought I should mention, I've thankfully never had a panic attack before, so I can't say I have any firsthand experience of how it feels, but I hope it seemed real enough without being too overly heavy.
> 
> Also, I hope you all like the way I came up with for Lena to have access to her powers :) I did this because in real life, unlike in the game, it only really takes one bullet to kill someone, so with people shooting machine guns and stuff at her, she's going to have to be very, very quick to dodge all of that. So I made her abilities line up a bit more with how they are in the "Alive" short, where she seems to have almost infinite blinks, and can recall pretty much at will. But she definitely isn't pressing any buttons or anything, so it seems to be controlled by her mind, which is why I set it up like this.
> 
> While I'm on the subject, Mercy can fly in this. She doesn't need to lock on to anything, since that doesn't really make sense outside of the context of the game. And like Tracer, she can control her own abilities with her mind, but it's done through a neural interface in the angel ring thing she wears on her head (or I guess she wears something like it under her hat since this is the era of that blue Combat Medic skin)
> 
> As you can probably tell, I've tried to invent a sort-of realistic way to make the science of Overwatch make a bit of sense. Let me know if I was successful :)  
> Until the next time!


	8. Where's The Line Between Lena and Tracer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, loves! I'm so sorry this one took so long! I was having a really rough case of writer's block on this one, but hopefully I'll be back to my normal updates now!
> 
> Also, they make out in this one quite a bit. Just a warning. Very soft and fluffy. Do not machine wash.

_A few months later…_

Lena turned the handle, reluctantly letting the warm deluge of the shower come to a stop. The relaxing water felt amazing, washing away whatever lingering soreness from yesterday’s training in a heartbeat. By now, with such a vigorous daily regimen of exercise, Lena almost _expected_ to feel at least a little sore in the mornings. Her training got more intense every day, and it was a rare morning that she didn’t wake to that lingering ache of exertion in her muscles.

And while her ever-improving physical condition had done wonders for dulling that soreness in recent weeks, the caress of warm water each morning, massaging away the remains of yesterday’s exercise, still felt absolutely _heavenly._

She stepped out onto the mat, her own feet unintentionally landing inside the damp imprints of Angela’s, where the other woman had exited the shower herself not fifteen minutes earlier.

Lena smiled dreamily at the thought of the beautiful blonde. It was a shame, really, that for the sake of actually making it to their respective workplaces on time, they had to forgo showering together. Especially recently, where Angela seemed to be having even more trouble than usual keeping curious hands from wandering whenever they did so.

That was one of the _definite_ upsides of her new training regimen. More than once, especially when she was getting dressed, she had turned around to see her girlfriend less-than-subtly staring at her butt. Or her stomach. Or her boobs.

She raised an arm to clear the fog from the mirror, and gave herself an appreciative once-over. She had always been slender and athletic, but under Overwatch’s watchful eye, that naturally slim stature had transformed into a lithe strength that, she had to admit, suited her _exceptionally_ well.

Her arms and thighs had become sturdier and more muscular, and while brute strength was still not exactly her forte, it would be a serious mistake to underestimate her. Abdominal muscles, too, had strengthened, giving her firm stomach a bit of definition that just made her round, perky breasts stand out and look even better.

It made Lena feel attractive. Really attractive. Especially whenever she had the chance to watch a certain doctor’s usual self-restraint collapsing right in front of her, sapphire eyes unable to help but slip downwards to sneak a peek or two.

So, knowing the effect she had on the other woman, was it a little cruel to get dressed in _this_ purple sports bra and its matching knickers? Probably.

Even though this particular set was a little too tight to be fully comfortable, there was _nothing_ better than Angela’s expression whenever she wore it. As much as she tried to deny it, there was no way for the doctor to hide the way her breathing hitched, her eyes darkening with desire as they made a valiant, but ultimately doomed effort not to stray downwards.

To be fair, that happened a lot: almost regardless of what underwear she was actually wearing, but it always seemed to happen more with this particular set.

Lena smiled again as she ran the towel once more through her thick, waterlogged hair. Already, even as wet as it was, it was beginning to stand up every which way, true to its unbelievably unruly nature, so she hung her towel, and left the bathroom to procure her hairbrush. Standing in front of their full-length mirror, she began to run the brush through those messy locks, the latest installment in her daily struggle to arrange them into their traditional chaotic spikes, else they dry like that, leaving her with an incorrigible mess for the rest of the day.

She had only closed her eyes for a fraction of a second, enjoying the feeling of the brush as she worked it through her hair, when she was ambushed from behind, a pair of warm, familiar arms wrapping around her.

She sighed happily as the other woman’s palms splayed flat against her upper abdomen, pulling her in so that soft lips could find her neck, trailing gentle kisses from her shoulder almost up to her ear. The brunette kept her eyes closed, tilting her head to the side in order to give her girlfriend more freedom, to which she happily obliged.

“Good morning, Angie,” Lena muttered, sighing again as the other woman let her thumbs trailed upwards, grazing at the underside of her breasts just a little too boldly to be unintentional.

“Good morning, Lena,” Angela replied, smiling into her kisses, sucking just a little at the temptingly accessible pulse point.

Lena turned in her arms, facing her so that their lips could meet. The taller woman was already dressed, wearing everything but her lab coat, blond hair still damp from her own shower.

“This is absolutely not fair,” Angela muttered against Lena’s lips. “You know how good that underwear makes you look right?”

The pilot just giggled. “I think you might have mentioned it.”

“Then why must you torture me like this?” she complained, only partly seriously.

Lena grinned widely. “Because it’s fun to watch you try and keep your eyes off my boobs, love.”

“Shut up,” Angela pouted, making them both giggle. “Besides, you’re just as bad.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, very deliberately cupping one of the other woman’s breasts in her hand and letting her eyes slide down her body.

“I take it back,” Angela grumbled, making an obvious effort not to let her voice hitch. “You’re worse.”

Lena pulled away with a wink, pretending not to notice the way Angela’s eyes fell to her backside as she sauntered to the dresser, pulling out her training uniform and slipping into it. They were both a bit flushed and turned on, but it was so much fun to flirt with Angela like that that it was worth it.

When she was finished dressing, she returned to their mirror and applied her traditional coat of eyeliner and mascara before turning around, seeing that Angela was now wearing her lab coat, and had just finished pushing her feet into the low heels she wore to the office every day. As Lena fastened her chronal accelerator in place, she walked over to her and captured her lips once more.

“Come up to my office later? During your afternoon break?” the blond woman muttered as they kissed.

“When don’t I?” Lena replied with a grin.

Angela ran her fingers through the brunette’s hair lovingly, correcting several errant locks that the brush had missed when she distracted her earlier. “I want to show you something.”

Lena stepped back in surprise, her eyebrows raised and her expression full of mirth. “What, can’t wait until tonight, love? I mean, if you really want to… but isn’t it against the rules to have a shag while we’re on the clock?”

“What?” Angela asked in confusion, then realized the way it sounded and blushed deeply. “No! That wasn’t what I meant! I guess my brain got ahead of my mouth.”

Lena giggled. “No worries. So what _did_ you mean, or is it a surprise?”

“Well, if you must know, there’s actually a person that I want you to meet. Her name is Brigitte, and her father’s bringing her in to visit today. I haven’t seen her in years, but she was absolutely the sweetest little girl, and absolutely fascinated by anything mechanical. I thought she might like a tour of the airplane hangar from someone that shared her interest.”

Lena shrugged, making a small self-deprecating gesture. “You know I’m not a proper mechanic, love. I don’t think I could tell her anything she doesn’t already know.”

“Don’t worry about teaching her. I just remembered how excited you were when you first saw that hangar, so I thought she might like it. Besides, if I know Torbjörn, he’ll end up dropping her off with me when he runs out of things to say halfway through the day, just because I’m ‘good with kids.’”

Lena giggled once again. “I’m sure he’s right, you know. You seem like you’d be great with kids.”

“Perhaps,” Angela said as they stepped out of their shared quarters, locking the door behind them as they began to make their way to breakfast. “But he seems to forget that I have work to do. I know you do too, but if you wouldn’t mind, maybe we could divide up taking time off to make sure a curious 16-year-old doesn’t get up to anything?”

The brunette flashed a cheeky smile. “Well, when ask like that, how could I say no? I’ll see if I can get the last part of the day off from training.”

* * *

There it was… That rush, again.

Once Lena had gotten over her fear, the feeling of blinking was… exhilarating. Every time, it felt like the world around her had slowed down, and she just leapt forward without anything that could stop her.

At times, it even felt like the same thing was happening within her brain, as if the adrenaline alone were triggering some part of her chronal accelerator and allowing her to see everything in slow motion. It was almost lethargically that she saw the training rifles swiveling around as their owners looked for her, giving her plenty of time to dodge before the rounds were fired.

Eventually, she realized that even the high-velocity rubber training pellets themselves were too slow for her, and she had started testing herself, waiting to blink or recall out of the way until well after the projectile had left the barrel of her opponents’ rifles. It was only when they moved to the laser range, where hits were recorded using light and sensors, rather than the much slower rubber pellets, that Lena needed to anticipate once again, dodging out of the way of any weapon that so much as pointed at her.

Which she still managed to do with absolute ease.

Even training against an entire squad of soldiers, Lena was way too fast for them, blinking around and landing shot after shot on them, eliminating them all without even a scratch on herself. No matter what weapon they used, from sniper rifles to machine guns to shotguns, she was always behind them, a grin on her face and her two laser pistols already firing. It was only last week, when she started sparring with her instructor, the base’s resident cowboy by the name of Jesse McCree, that the results were even close.

Lena had to give it to him. The man was fast. And deadly accurate with that handgun of his.

But however fast he was, no matter how quickly he turned and aimed, Lena was even faster. And she was getting better every day.

She finished her blink right behind him, giggling in exhilaration as she pulled the triggers, lighting up his vest with a smatter of hit markers. The buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the round, and the cowboy’s shoulders sagged, his breathing heavy.

“Winner: Tracer,” came the voice of Athena over the loudspeaker.

“Damn,” he said, tiredly bracing his hands against his knees and grinning self-deprecatingly. “It’s been a while since someone’s beat the shit out of me that handily.”

“Sorry, love,” Lena replied, wiping a few beads of sweat from her own brow. “You did say not to hold back.”

“And I don’t take that back,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to taking it easy on people, just because you know you can beat them. All it takes is one lucky shot.”

Lena nodded, acknowledging the advice. “Good point. You wanna go again?”

“You kidding?” he chuckled. “That’s enough of having my ass handed to me for one day. What is that now, 38 to 2? And one of those was a complete accident. Honestly, maybe you should start sparring with Genji. He’s our current champion, but I think you might actually be able to beat him.”

“You think?”

“Definitely. I can’t wait to see you wipe that smug look off his face.”

Lena giggled. “I’m sure he’d be glad to know his best friend thinks he looks smug.”

“Oh, he knows,” Jesse said with another chuckle. “I tell him every time I get the chance. Every damn time, he just grins and calls me a Clint Eastwood wannabe. Can’t say I don’t deserve that one, but still.”

She looked him over thoroughly, a teasing smirk on her face. “Seems like a pretty fair description to me. You dress like you can’t decide whether you wanna be him or make out with him.”

The cowboy glanced down at his attire himself and shrugged. “Can’t say I’d be opposed to either. Have you seen some of his movies from back in the day? You can’t tell me you didn’t think, ‘Damn, I want a piece of that.’”

Lena shook her head. “Can’t say I have, love. Guys don’t really strike my fancy.”

McCree nodded knowingly. “Ah, so you were more into Katharine Ross. I get it, she’s hot. I’d go out with her.”

Lena didn’t know who he was talking about, but it was safe to assume she was an actress in one of his old westerns from over a hundred years ago. She laughed. “Mate, we need to find you some celebrity crushes that are a bit more _this century."_

“What can I say?” he said with a grin, dusting himself off and returning his practice weapon to its correct storage cabinet. “Everyone’s got a type. What’s yours?”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you’ve been shackin’ up with the Doc for the past few months. Your type looks something like her I take it? Blonde hair, blue eyes? Able to kick someone’s ass six ways from Sunday, but smart enough to patch it up even better than new afterward?” He paused, a teasing smirk growing on his face. “Nice tits?”

She smacked him on the arm. There was no heat in it, but it was hard enough to let him know she was serious. “That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.”

“But was I right?” he asked, rubbing the painful spot.

Lena sighed. “I don’t know, love. I don’t really know if she fits my type, or if she just… _is_ my type, you know?”

McCree looked a little surprised at the slightly dreamy tone that entered her voice. “Shit, darlin’, she got you good, huh? Right there,” he said, placing a hand in the middle of his chest.

“I… Yeah, she really did.”

He rested his hand on her shoulder, a wide smile on his face. “I’m glad. I can see how she is when you’re around, and I just gotta say, thanks.”

“Thanks?”

“For makin’ her smile. She looks at you like I’ve never seen her look at anyone before, and I’ve been friends with her forever. I don’t know if anyone’s told you how happy you make her, so you bet I’m gonna thank you.”

Lena’s heart swelled, and she smiled happily. She pulled McCree into a hug.

“Now,” he said when they pulled apart. He picked up her real pistols and headed for the shooting range. “Let’s see how good you’ve gotten with those peashooters of yours.”

* * *

After training, Lena wandered into the medical bay, a big smile on her face.

This was turning out to be a very good day. Her training was progressing excellently, and she had made friends with a usually-taciturn cowboy. She had even managed to get the rest of the day off, so she was in good spirits when she arrived at her girlfriend’s workplace.

And hopefully, she would have a chance to meet this new girl, Brigitte, who apparently liked aviation almost as much as she did. Or at least, the mechanical part of it.

“Hey, love!” Lena chirped as she walked into Mercy’s office, and just as she had almost every day, barely gave her girlfriend a moment to look up from her computer before sweeping her into a deep kiss. She smiled as she did so, knowing she would never get tired of Angela’s little inhale of surprise, right before she quickly melted into her soft lips, sighing happily and starting to respond in kind.

The doctor pushed her chair back slightly, giving them a bit more room, and that was all the invitation Lena needed. Without breaking their kiss, she lifted a leg over Angela’s, slinging her arms around the blond woman’s shoulders as she straddled her hips.

It was only after several minutes that they broke apart, resting their foreheads against each other. “How was your day, love?” Lena whispered, their eyes full of love and intention as they met at such close range.

One of Angela’s hands lifted from where it rested on Lena’s waist, coming up to run through that spiky brown hair, inviting the brunette in for another kiss. “Excellent. But better now that you’re here,” she replied softly, sighing as warm lips began to make their way down her jawline.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“Nothing important,” she whispered, then pulled back reluctantly, glancing at the door. “But we shouldn’t… Not now. Torbjörn dropped Brigitte off here a few hours ago, and she just stepped out to go to the bathroom… She’ll be back any moment.”

But unfortunately, it was too late, because even as she was saying so, they heard the door swing open, and a quiet gasp came from the doorway.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Ziegler!” came a young woman’s voice. “I didn’t realize you were… um… I’ll just… wait outside!”

“Wait!” Lena stood quickly from Angela’s lap, making a face at her girlfriend when she saw the light of poorly-concealed laughter there. “I’m really sorry,” she said apologetically, blinking so she could catch the girl’s arm before she managed to leave.

Lena gently turned her around, feeling rather embarrassed when she saw her bright red face. Not really the best of first meetings.

“I’m so sorry, love,” she repeated, as she got to look the teenager in the eyes for the first time.

The girl was a little shorter than Angela, which meant that she, like most people, stood several centimeters taller than Lena. She was slender, but nowhere near skinny: her bone structure was built a little too sturdily for that. But by far, the most striking thing about her was her long, straight, red hair, which fell in a curtain around her head, partially covering her face, which, if anything, seemed to be turning an even brighter shade of red.

“Let’s try that again, yeah?” the pilot said, grinning welcomingly and offering her hand to shake. “My name’s Lena, what’s yours?”

“H… hi,” the redhead stuttered. Ironically, those same eyes that had been so determinedly averted, now seemed to have a great deal of trouble looking away. “I’m… um… my name’s Brigitte.”

It took a moment, but she finally seemed to pull herself together, and shyly shook the offered hand.

“Hiya, Brigitte!” Lena replied with a little giggle. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Brigitte shook her head, her eyes wide, as if she were astonished by the sight before her. “I’m… I’m sorry but it… it’s _you.”_

The pilot raised an eyebrow, still smiling kindly. “Have we met? I’m so sorry, love, I didn’t mean to forget you if we did.”

But the younger woman was already shaking her head. “I saw… I saw you… in the news.” Her eyes trailed down to her chest, taking a long glimpse of the chronal accelerator before dragging them back up to the brunette’s welcoming face, her cheeks somehow going even redder. “You’re that pilot, right?” she finished, her voice a little weak. “The one that disappeared.”

_Right. I forgot that people have probably heard of me now._

But Brigitte looked so nervous, as if Lena were some kind of celebrity that she couldn’t believe she was finally meeting, that the pilot couldn’t help but wrap a comforting arm around her. But when that only seemed to fluster the young woman even more, she pulled away again a little awkwardly.

_I’m glad I’m not a movie star or something. I’d be hopeless._

A little belatedly, she realized she should reply to Brigitte’s question. “Yep!” she said. “I’ve been grounded since the accident, but I used to fly a lot. Angie mentioned that you’re interested in airplanes, so I’d be happy to show you the hangar if you want. I have a lot of funny stories about flight school.”

Eagerly, the redhead nodded her consent, simultaneously shy and excited to be receiving a tour from someone she _had seen on television._

Meanwhile, Lena just grinned happily at seeing her accept the idea, unaware that Brigitte was hardly alone in her admiration. Unbeknownst to her, she was becoming a bit of a celebrity among the younger women of the world, having achieved so much so early in her life. She was an agent of Overwatch, a crack pilot, and had been to the brink of death and back, and still managed to be a veritable ray of sunshine in every one of her interviews.

And right now, that celebrity had an eager sixteen-year-old to show around the airplane hangar. Hopefully, that excitement would be enough to help her forget a bit about how she had walked in on Lena making out with Angela. Brigitte’s dad, whoever he was, would probably be less than impressed to find out that his daughter had found them doing _that._

She and Brigitte waved goodbye to Angela, who waved back, only partly successful in keeping a straight face and not bursting out in laughter.

But Lena should have known better than to hope Brigitte would forget that easily. The moment they left the medical bay, Brigitte asked, “So, the rumors… about you and Dr. Ziegler? I’m guessing those are true?”

_No such luck, then._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let me know what you thought! I'm not completely happy with the flow, but I figured I may as well post it and hope it turned out okay!
> 
> I feel like McCree would be the guy to own a bunch of old westerns and would be just an absolute expert on all movies about that time period. Btw, I haven't actually seen Butch Cassidy yet, but I've been told it's good, and Katharine Ross is the actress in it, so that's why I had McCree reference her. Speaking of which, as you can probably tell, I've made him bisexual, since I'm not really sure if later I should pair him with Pharah, or with Genji. Which one would you guys like to see? I'm leaning toward Pharah, because he's one of the most likely guys she would go out with and I don't much like the whole, 'she's a tough military woman, she must be a lesbian' stereotype (believe me, I've tried flirting with a few, and one of them even called me ugly names and almost hit me, so I'm absolutely sure it's not necessarily the case)
> 
> And as for Brigitte, I tried to base her off what I saw in the Overwatch 2 trailer. Lena is so surprised by how much she's grown, so Brigitte must have been a lot smaller when they first met, which is what I did here. I tried to leave it open to interpretation whether she had a bit of a babysitter/celebrity crush on Lena or not, since Blizzard did the same, but she was definitely shy when she said hi to Lena in the trailer, and her eyes were maybe on her chronal accelerator, or maybe on her butt?
> 
> Anyway, let me know if you liked it! I really appreciate the feedback and support, it means the world to me!


	9. Unrest

_“Omnic rights activist, Tekhartha Mondatta, has once again called for an end to tensions between humans and omnics, with little success. Major cities around the globe have been reporting incidents of violence breaking out amid the ongoing protests, with the worst so far taking place in London, St. Petersburg, Cairo, and Busan, where anti-omnic sentiments are running especially high._

_The death toll remains unknown, but the latest estimates indicate that the casualties of this latest spike in violence may be well into the thousands, and will likely continue to climb unless an agreement can be reached._

_To that end, Mondatta has arranged a meeting with several high-ranking officials of the British government, hoping that reaching an agreement on the topic of omnic rights will satisfy both groups and put a stop to the violence that is continuing to escalate. In a speech, he spoke out to humans and omnics alike, asking both groups not to give in to the desire for violence or revenge, and try to learn to live together in peace._

_Several radical anti-omnic groups are already expressing their vocal opposition to this meeting, arguing that even having such a conference shows far too much consideration toward granting rights to a group of malfunctioning machines._

_Meanwhile, the omnic extremist group, Null Sector, has issued a threat directly to Mondatta, asserting that humans will never accept equality or peace with omnics, and that attempting to reach a compromise is the same as submitting to humanity’s desires. They have said, in no uncertain terms, that to be seen complying, or even attempting to make peace with their enemies, would be treated as a betrayal of omnic-kind._

_There has still been no official response from Mondatta to the threat, but he has repeatedly assured reporters that the meeting will go through as planned. Further updates on the situation in London still to come...”_

Even now, the words of the news report still echoed in Angela’s mind, almost as clearly as the scenes of damage and destruction that had accompanied it. The footage was primarily from London, where clashes between protesters and counter-protesters seemed to be only getting worse with time, leaving parts of the city in flames and pluming smoke high into the sky.

It broke Angela’s heart, to see such needless pain and suffering of so many people. All because they wouldn’t just _talk_ to each other. All because people couldn’t manage to admit to themselves that violence wasn’t always the answer.

The only thing that broke Angela’s heart more was Lena’s reaction to it.

She didn’t think she would _ever_ forget the look of utter devastation on Lena’s face as she watched men, women, and omnics alike on the receiving end of fists, clubs, and countless other makeshift weapons, only to be left, badly wounded and sobbing in pain, on the side of the street.

But their cries of agony were simply drowned out by the incessant wailing of sirens and the shouts of people fighting, the mob upturning cars and leaving a swath of burning garbage cans in their wake. It almost looked like something out of the apocalypse, and Angela was finding it harder and harder to even recognize the once-beautiful city.

But however much it hurt Angela to see London in shambles, she knew it was so much worse for Lena. That was her _home._ Discounting Overwatch and flight school, she had lived her entire life there, and she had to watch it being practically destroyed before her very eyes.

Lena was watching in a daze, her eyes wide and unfocused as she witnessed the brutality the world had to offer. In the space of a mere few seconds, she had seen an omnic beaten to within an inch of its life, followed by the other group of protesters doing the exact same to a human barely a hundred meters away. The hatred on display had Lena almost _frozen_ in horror, her face blank, the tears not even letting themselves roll down her cheeks.

Angela felt her heart give another painful throb at the sight that hurt her to her very core. To see a woman who had always worn her emotions on her sleeve, reduced to _complete silence_ in her shock and anguish. Unable to stand watching the brunette’s pain for even a moment longer, Angela had pulled her into her arms, hoping it would elicit some kind of reaction from her. She almost _wanted_ Lena to cry, to sob, to scream, to hit something; _anything_ other this horrible, agonizing silence.

“How can people do this to each other?” Lena had eventually mumbled, her words barely intelligible as she hid her face in Angela’s shirt. “Why is there so much hate?”

The blonde had just shaken her head sadly. “I don’t know, Lena.”

“It was sort of… I don’t know… _distant_ before, when it was happening everywhere else, but now… I mean… that’s my _home._ I grew up there and I’ve probably _met_ some of those people, and everyone’s just… tearing the place apart.”

Even as she said them, they were words that all but seared themselves into Angela’s memory. In that moment, she had wanted nothing more than to tell Lena that everything would be okay, but she couldn’t bring herself to say so, because it felt like nothing but a lie.

She _knew_ what it was, to see one’s childhood home in flaming ruins. She _remembered_ all those years ago, picking through the smoldering remains of her parents’ house, feeling the simultaneous hope and dread at what she might find every time she moved a piece of rubble.

At the memory, she just hugged Lena tighter, hoping desperately that the pressure would at least remind the younger woman that she was _not alone._ No matter what happened, no matter how bleak it felt, no matter how much it hurt, Angela was there for her.

But she couldn’t really tell if Lena had picked up on that, because after several minutes of their caring, moist-eyed embrace, Lena simply pulled away and silently began to get ready for the day, donning her training uniform and her chronal accelerator, as well as a well-practiced mask over her emotions.

Maybe it was because Lena was still in shock, or maybe it was because she had an extraordinary ability to hide her pain, but most people didn’t even notice that anything was wrong. Even Winston didn’t notice that today’s smile was completely fake.

Angela, of course, could see right through it, and was becoming increasingly worried for her girlfriend as they day went on. Despite the fact that she performed _brilliantly_ in today’s progress assessment, even managing to defeat Genji and take his position at the very top of Overwatch’s sparring leaderboard, Angela could see the hurt behind every one of Lena’s little giggles or cheeky remarks.

Even as she moved with such precision and fluidity, blinking and jumping and dodging and recalling, every time she stopped, Angela could see the way her bottom lip faintly trembled.

Even when they had told her that Commander Morrison wanted to see her in his office, Angela could see the moisture that had never seemed to leave the corners of her eyes.

Angela resolved to have a nice, long talk with Commander Morrison. Earlier, when he had walked in on Lena’s training, Angela had already tried calmly reminding him of all the people that would die without medical aid. But the more she thought about it, the more she really wanted to give him a piece of her mind. If Overwatch wasn’t here to help people, what _was_ it for?

She sighed, about to put the finishing touches on her official report on Lena’s condition, when the very woman burst into the room, slamming the door shut behind her and meeting the doctor’s gaze with big, emotional eyes that were only _barely_ holding back tears. She practically _trembled_ as she stood in front of her girlfriend, eyes glistening as a quiet sniffle escaped her.

“What is it, Lena? What happened?” the doctor asked in a whisper, standing from her desk and quickly closing the distance so that they could stand chest to chest. Her hand rose to Lena’s face, gently caressing her cheek with a thumb.

The other woman’s lower lip was trembling badly, her sad brown eyes gazing beseechingly up at Angela’s face. She let out another sniffle as she accepted the implied offer of a hug, burying her face in Angela’s chest.

She managed to hold everything in for three more seconds before the dam finally broke.

Lena let out a heartbroken sob, pulling the taller woman tightly against herself as those walls finally came crumbling down. Her emotions finally bared, the brunette began weeping in earnest, her little cries and sniffles mostly masked by the material of the lab coat against her face. Angela tightened the embrace, not caring for even a moment that her white lab coat probably now had several stains where Lena’s eyeliner had begun to run.

They held each other for several long minutes, the doctor letting her pour out everything she had been keeping inside all day. She didn’t say another word, simply letting Lena exhaust her pent-up anguish into her gentle embrace. When they finally pulled apart, Angela cupped Lena’s cheek in her hand and caressed it again with her thumb, gently wiping away the tracks of saltwater there.

When Lena finally spoke, her voice was barely above a mumble, raw and hoarse from crying. “I… I went to Commander Morrison’s office…” she trailed off, choking down another wave of tears. “I saw… on the telly there.”

A feeling of dread surged through Angela’s body. Did Lena mean…?

“Null Sector…” Lena muttered, her voice unbelievably quiet, as if she were afraid that saying it aloud might make it true. Angela gasped, her heart dropping into her stomach, a tear of her own making its way down her cheek as Lena continued. “They attacked London. I saw… there was this little bookstore in King’s Row… I used to go there every day after school…” she sniffled again. “I used to do my homework there… and the lady that owned the place… she was _so lovely,_ and she used to make the _best_ scones. She always used to save one for me…” Lena’s sobs returned, more fiercely than ever.

Angela pulled her back into their hug, holding her tightly. It was like some part of her knew what Lena was going to say next, even though she desperately hoped it was wrong.

“It was _in flames,_ Angie,” the heartbroken brunette managed to choke out. “I recognized it on the telly… in the commander’s office and… _God,_ I… I don’t even know if she’s… if she’s still… if they k… killed her. They already… raided the peace talks and… kidnapped Mondatta… and I… I don’t…”

Angela felt her own heart shattering, watching Lena suffer like this.

 _God, what_ wouldn’t _I do to relieve her of this pain?_

She tried to provide what comfort she could, hugging and kissing her sweetly in an attempt to at least bandage the wound, even if she could not heal it.

“When… When I saw, I… I almost started… crying in… in the middle of the commander’s office… I don’t even know how I held it in…” she muttered, her voice breaking. “How can they expect us to just _sit here_ and not _do_ anything?!”

Angela ran her fingers comfortingly through Lena’s hair, then pushed her gently away so that they could look tearily into each other’s eyes. “You never know, you might have changed his mind. And if you didn’t, I’ll help you change it.”

“But he said he couldn’t!” Lena burst out. “All because some bloody _wankers_ won’t let us help!”

Angela sighed, nodding her head. That really was the unfortunate truth. With Overwatch in the state that it was, there were several countries, including the UK, that no longer even allowed it to operate within their borders. It was even taking heat _for Blackwatch,_ which wasn’t even really the same organization, but had been suspended after it was found to be an absolute _breeding ground_ for Talon recruits.

Situations like this were _exactly_ why Overwatch had been created. To help people with the aftershocks of the Omnic Crisis. And their hands were tied, just because they were such an easy target for everyone’s criticism.

Angela didn’t pretend to understand all the politics and bureaucracy of running Overwatch, but she couldn’t help but find it just a little cowardly for Commander Morrison not to arrange some kind of aid for those people, even if it had to be secret. Maybe there was some way to persuade him? Some argument she had not thought of yet?

She understood that a strike team might be a bit much, but they had to do _something._

But, as it turned out, Commander Morrison’s thoughts were along approximately the same lines as her own. It was not long after she had that thought that the ping of an emergency notification sounded through her office, and Athena’s voice met the ears of the two young women.

“Emergency contact for Dr. Ziegler and Cadet Oxton,” the AI said.

“Go ahead, Athena,” they replied, sniffing and wiping the remaining tears from their eyes.

“Cadet Oxton: in light of recent events, you have received a field promotion to the rank of Agent, codename: Tracer, to be properly instated as soon as possible, as well as assignment to Strike Team Alpha with Agents Lindholm, Wilhelm, and Ziegler.”

Lena’s eyes widened, not daring to hope as Athena continued. “Additionally, the Commander has assigned Strike Team Alpha to a covert operation in London, with the explicit purpose of halting Null Sector through any means possible, as well as recuing their hostages. Namely, recover all members of the diplomatic talks if at all possible. Mondatta’s safety is a priority. As this is a covert mission, the details must not be discussed with anybody, understood?”

Both women nodded, hardly believing their ears. “Understood,” they said, waiting a few moments to see if she had anything else to say before staring at each other with cautious enthusiasm.

“Looks like all he needed was a fresh perspective, after all,” Angela said, glad to see some of the helplessness gone from her expression, replaced with a grim determination. The sadness was still there, but now, she felt like she could do something about it.

“I’ll get ready and meet you in the hangar, love,” Lena said, pulling the doctor into a sweet kiss and smiling weakly. “I think there are some people that need our help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again loves! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I based it heavily off the official Uprising comic, so since I didn't want to repeat some of the stuff you've probably already read, I made the entire thing from Angela's perspective. But I hope you all agree that it makes sense for Lena to have a "behind the scenes" reaction to what she saw in Commander Morrison's office, since I don't think anyone could manage to watch that happening to their home city without at least a few tears shed.
> 
> Anyway, I really hope you liked it! Let me know if you did! Comments and kudos are always super appreciated :)


	10. Uprising - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes... more than two weeks without an update... I'm so sorry, everyone.
> 
> College has been keeping me so busy, and as you've probably noticed by now, I'm not really the fastest writer ever. And I didn't want to leave you all with something mediocre, so I really wanted to make sure it was edited and pretty well written (Or at least, I hope).
> 
> So here it is... part one of Lena's first-ever mission with Overwatch!

“Cheers, love! The cavalry’s here!” Lena chirped as she returned from her third visit to the transport’s cockpit in the past hour, grinning at Angela as she plopped herself back in her seat. “What do you think? Pretty good, right?”

Torbjörn grumbled angrily. “You’re gonna make me regret ever calling you that, aren’t you?”

“Come on, it’s not so bad, is it? If I’m gonna be a hero like you guys, I need a catchphrase, right? Angie’s all like, ‘Heroes never die!’ and Reinhardt’s thing is, ‘Honor and glory!’ and Torbjörn…” she trailed off, uncertainty crossing her features. “What _is_ your catchphrase, love?”

“Sit down and stop talking would be a good one,” Torbjörn grunted. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone struggle to sit still this much.”

“Fine,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “I guess you’ll just stay as ‘the grumpy one’ then.”

“I’ll live. As long as it means we can finally have some peace and quiet around here.”

Lena looked a little offended, then leaned toward Angela, lowering her voice. “What’s got his knickers in a twist? Was it something I did?”

“He’s like that with every new recruit. He was the same with me last year,” Angela whispered back with a shrug of her own. Then, making sure the other two agents couldn’t hear her, she continued, winking at her as she did so. “Although it’s probably not so much what you did, but who. Namely, me.”

“Who I di… Ohhh…” the brunette blushed faintly as the realization hit her. Her eyes lit up in understanding, and she glanced over at the short, bearded man, now seeing him in a rather different light. “He cares about you. You’re part of his team, and he’s worried I’m not good enough for you?”

Angela nodded. “Probably. That and he still probably hasn’t forgiven us for that… incident… with Brigitte. He’s been known to hold a grudge.”

Lena looked like she would have slapped herself in the forehead had it not been for the man himself sitting directly across from them. “Of course, you told me he was her father, but I completely forgot. You really think she told him?”

“I mean, she was so excited to have a chance to even meet you, she probably said _something.”_

Lena shrugged and whispered something else, but Angela couldn’t hear it over Reinhardt’s booming voice as he clapped his friend on the back, laughing loudly. “Come on, old friend, you can’t still be grumpy about that! It’s not like Brigitte’s never seen two people kiss before!”

Torbjörn crossed his arms. “It doesn’t matter, she’s been a bad influence on her either way. Brigitte always used to be so easygoing and patient, and now it’s all, _‘Meeting Tracer was so cool, Papa, when can we visit again?’_ and _‘One day, I wanna have a girlfriend just like her. Dr. Ziegler looks so happy with her!’_ and _‘Did you know her real name is Lena? It’s like she’s a superhero and I know her secret identity!’_ God, it’s infuriating.”

Angela couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips. “It sounds absolutely adorable.”

The short Swedish engineer fixed her with a scathing look. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, doctor. It took me a week to get her to tell me why she was blushing so hard every time I asked her how she even knew you two were together.”

“Oi!” Lena cut in, a little indignantly. “She caught us at a bad time, okay?”

Reinhardt laughed. “I don’t think a few minutes would’ve made much difference. I’ve seen you two. Sometimes I wonder how you can go so long without needing to breathe.”

Angela refused to be cowed by his gentle teasing, and just tightened the arm around Lena’s shoulders. “Can you blame me? Besides, if we’re talking about bad influences on Brigitte, you’re pretty guilty yourself, aren’t you, Reinhardt? I’ve seen the way she follows you around like a faithful apprentice… she’s almost as committed to your code of chivalry as you are.”

Reinhardt chuckled, and took the hint at their long-standing argument in stride. “What? It’s a good trait to have, and you already know that if she wants to become my squire, I would have no complaints! She’s more than capable, and she already has much of what I would look for in a trainee.”

The doctor would normally have argued, but with Torbjörn’s glare at the three of them only growing in intensity as the conversation continued, she decided it was a debate for another day.

“Maybe we should just go over the plan again?” she asked, and thankfully, all the other agents quickly nodded their agreement. She clapped her hands together once, ready to get to business, then quickly pulled up a map of the city on the transport’s holo-screen. “Excellent. Now, Commander Morrison said we don’t exactly have much information about where Null Sector might be keeping the hostages. Any ideas, Lena?”

The brunette was already nodding, and cleared her throat as she took a step forward. “I’ve heard plenty about omnic districts all over London, but I’ve only actually been inside one of them. They keep to themselves, and a lot of omnics get proper jumpy when they see humans sneaking about, so I didn’t hang around for long. These are the ones I’m sure of.” She circled a few areas of the map with her finger. “They’re probably keeping the hostages in one of them.”

Torbjörn leaned forward, looking pensive as he stared at what she had drawn. “There aren’t any safehouses or anything like that where they could be holding them?”

Lena shook her head. “There’s a bunch, but none of them have enough space for that many people, especially with all the guards they probably have.”

Reinhardt nodded in agreement. “They’d be hard to defend too. A house is a much easier target than a fortified neighborhood.”

Angela stood beside Lena, using the mission details Commander Morrison had sent to her electronic tablet as a guide to draw an accurate border around the areas currently controlled by Null Sector. “This is the area Null Sector holds right now, so because they couldn’t really be keeping the hostages outside that area…” She circled the omnic neighborhood at the center of the border she had drawn. “They’re probably here.”

The other three agents nodded in agreement. It seemed the most likely explanation. There were only two omnic districts on the map within the area controlled by Null Sector, and the other was a small one right on the border. The omnic neighborhood she had circled, however, was right in the center, and one of the biggest in all of London.

“They call that the Underworld,” Lena explained. “The entrance is beneath an old power plant. The workers were almost all omnics, so they ended up digging themselves an underground home there so they could stay off the streets. In the past few years, though, it’s turned into the biggest omnic town in London. We’ll have our work cut out if we’re gonna look for the hostages through all that.”

“It’s a good thing I brought that bomb, then,” Torbjörn said, glancing appreciatively at the back of the transport, where his massive electromagnetic explosive was stored. “If we’re gonna break in through the front door of an old omnic power plant, we’re gonna need the firepower.”

Lena nodded. “You said you needed a lot of space to drop it in? Where do you think you can manage it?”

Torbjörn looked at the map for several moments, then pointed to a spot. “That should be enough.”

“Right outside Westminster?” Lena looked a little stressed. “You sure there isn’t anywhere else?”

The Swedish man shrugged. “It’s the closest spot with enough room. And if we’re gonna be walking for hours through abandoned subway tunnels just to get there, I’d really rather not waste any more time or energy than we have to.”

The Brit still didn’t look particularly happy at that, but she eventually gave a slow nod. “Okay, I guess. But as a British citizen and all, I really don’t like the idea of helping someone drop in a bomb that close to Parliament…”

Torbjörn fixed her with a look of disdain. “Consider it extenuating circumstances. Something your ‘Parliament’ should have prevented to begin with.”

Lena grimaced. “Ouch, love. I get it. No need to bite my head off.” She sighed, looking at her feet, her cheery mood from earlier dampened. “That’s why we’re here, yeah?”

Angela wrapped an arm around her. “Don’t let Torbjörn get to you. We _are_ going to fix this, okay?”

The pilot fixed her with a soft, flimsy smile. “I hope so, love.”

* * *

It was all too soon that the desolate streets of London finally came into view.

Any banter the four agents had managed to strike up came screeching to a halt, all of them falling into silence at the grim scene outside the windows. Even from this distance, the transport pilot skirting far enough around the city center to avoid drawing fire from Null Sector’s anti-aircraft turrets, it was painfully obvious how the normally-bustling streets were all but deserted, the movement and flow of daily life halted in its tracks by the omnic rebellion. Smoke billowed from a hundred different points in the city, but unlike several hours ago, the responding emergency sirens were only few and far between, with response crews forced to stay well away from the deadly front lines.

Instead of sirens, at the extreme limits of their hearing, they could hear the distant popping of gunfire, along with intermittent deeper booming as bombs and grenades went off. Each of the sounds of violence was coming from just another point where the British military was attempting to hold off the forces of Null Sector.

In theory, at least, the British had more than enough soldiers and firepower to launch a counterattack, but because of the thousands of civilians caught behind Null Sector’s lines, as well as the escalating hostage situation in the power plant, they were under orders to hold their ground for the time being, and help as many innocent bystanders escape as possible.

Angela turned her head to glance at the brunette sitting beside her, feeling another twinge in her chest at the look of distress on her face. For a few moments, it looked as if the big tears that had pooled at the corners of her eyes were about to spill down her cheeks, but with an almost imperceptible shake of her head, Lena’s expression hardened, taking on an air of complete determination.

Angela knew that look. It was the one she was sure that she herself wore every time she saw people suffering. Without noticing that she had done it, she suddenly realized that her face was already formed that very same expression right now, her lips in a grim line as she watched buildings in the city below engulfed in flames.

She gave Lena her best attempt at an encouraging smile, hoping her face didn’t betray the nerves that were rapidly building in her stomach. The situation was _far_ worse than she had expected, and they were going into the danger below with little more than what information McCree could give them before being chased down by Null Sector. She felt a stab of worry about the cowboy’s wellbeing, but quickly pushed it aside. Her team needed her focused, and McCree could take care of himself, at least for the time being.

They landed on the outskirts of London, just as they had planned, near one of the entrances to the London Underground. They had all agreed, even before leaving the Swiss Headquarters, that even with the trains currently nonoperational, it would be the fastest, most practical way into the heart of the city.

Instead of slogging their way through slow, dangerous urban combat on the surface, the Overwatch agents could take Null Sector completely by surprise, emerging from the very tunnels that they believed they had little reason to guard.

Unfortunately, as Torbjörn had made abundantly clear, it wasn’t exactly a short walk, and Angela knew they would all be feeling it in a few hours. But grumbling was for later. For now, all there was to do was to make sure they had all their gear, and that they were ready to go.

Angela glanced over at Lena once again, watching as she fidgeted nervously, checking and rechecking her pulse pistols every few seconds. The tension in every line of the younger woman’s body reminded her painfully of her own first mission, so she smiled compassionately as she pulled her into a warm hug.

“Don’t worry, Lena. I’ll keep you safe out there. Can’t have anything happen to our new recruit on her first mission, can we?” she said quietly.

A soft smile crept over the shorter woman’s face, and she gave Angela a quick squeeze before breaking away. “And if you need help, I’ll be there, love. Don’t worry.”

The doctor nodded, and adjusted Lena’s cap where it sat on top of her perpetually spiky hair. “You’ll do amazingly. I know you will.”

“Thanks, Angie.” Lena replied, drawing in a deep, slightly shaky breath as she made a clear effort to resist checking for the thousandth time that she had her communicator in her ear, her pulse pistols in their holsters, her chronal accelerator firmly attached over her chest, and half a dozen other things that she already knew she had not forgotten, but just needed to be absolutely sure.

Instead, she simply picked up Mercy’s Caduceus staff from where it was stowed, and gave her girlfriend a big kiss on the cheek as she handed it to her.

With a soft ‘thank you’ to the transport’s pilot, the two women stepped down to the hard earth and proceeded to follow Reinhardt and Torbjörn into the train tunnel’s entrance, neither woman letting go of the other’s hand just yet as they finally stepped into its inky darkness and began their long walk to London’s city center.

But almost as soon as the daylight faded into the distance behind them, Angela was reminded of how much she disliked subways.

There was just something about the dim lights and the rushing crowds in such a confined space that never really sat well with her. Maybe it was the noise, or the smell, or maybe just the feeling of not being able to escape, were a fire alarm or other emergency to occur. Or maybe it was just a natural preference for the open air of the trains that were native to Switzerland.

She never realized how much she would miss those crowds until they were all gone.

The hours and kilometers rolled slowly by under the agents’ feet, their earlier, lively conversations aboard the transport completely gone in the face of the sheer magnitude of their task. Even the always-boisterous Reinhardt was quiet, focusing instead on placing one foot in front of the other, careful not to trip over the never-ending line of railroad ties.

It was… eerie to say the least. Four agents, illuminated by little apart from the overhead service lights and their handheld flashlights, walking along the completely abandoned rails of one of the most heavily trafficked subways in the world. The tunnels themselves were even showing their age, appearing old and worn-down, accustomed to constant use for nearly 150 years, a consistent service that was all brought to a complete stop by a rogue group of omnics that preferred to kill than to talk.

At every station, or even every service tunnel, Angela half-expected the doors to burst open, bloodthirsty robots pouring onto the tracks and quickly overwhelming their small force before they even had a chance to react.

She stopped herself, shaking her head. Maybe that was a slight exaggeration. Null Sector wasn’t expecting this, after all, and while they were certain to have guards stationed outside the entrances, it would be a complete waste of resources to monitor the entirety of that expansive underground rail network. She glanced around the group, attempting to gauge their confidence by the expressions they wore.

Beside her, Reinhardt looked as impetuous as ever, if only a bit bored at the long, uneventful walk. Torbjörn was a bit more affected, however, and while he was hiding it well, she swore she saw him surreptitiously glance behind them once or twice, his ever-present distrust of omnics brought to the surface once more by their current mission.

It was Lena, however, whose emotions had always been like an open book to Angela, where she could see the most nerves. Despite her being entirely comfortable in the Tube, it was impossible to miss the way she kept wiping her palms on her leggings and glancing behind her. Once or twice, the sudden scurrying of a rodent, or dripping of water, or any one of the other highly-amplified sounds that occur in an abandoned rail tunnel, combined with the mounting adrenaline and pressure to succeed, left Lena whirling in place to face the source of each noise, flicking her wrists to draw her pulse pistols from her forearm-mounted holsters and crouching into a defensive stance.

After the first several sounds had turned out to be nothing more than false alarms, her reactions had dulled their severity a bit, but Angela could tell she was still as taught as a bowstring, ready to jump at a moment’s notice. When Lena met her gaze, Angela gave her a comforting smile, bumping her shoulder against the shorter woman’s.

“It’ll be alright, you know,” she said, feeling a little odd at being the one comforting her, when she was usually the one that turned into a ball of worry and unnecessary hypothetical situations.

Reinhardt heard her, and chipped in himself, “We all have faith in you, Tracer!”

Lena nodded, taking a deep breath and setting her shoulders just a bit more confidently. “Thanks, loves.”

She beamed thankfully at the other two agents, her anxiety obviously not completely abated, but still feeling herself greatly encouraged by her teammates’ confidence. Angela was glad to see it, knowing that if she performed anywhere near as well as she had in training, those omnics were in for a nasty surprise.

And even with Torbjörn grumbling intermittently about how much farther their final stop was, it was with a much lighter atmosphere that they proceeded with their trip into the center of King’s Row.

* * *

As it turned out, their plan worked much better than anyone had anticipated.

Lena had been right, and the four agents had arrived at the Westminster stop in barely another fifteen minutes, all breathing a sigh of relief when they saw they had arrived at their destination.

They had climbed through the disused station in a tense silence, their footsteps echoing through the massive, deserted concrete halls. Their weapons at the ready, they had approached the surface, pleasantly surprised to find that the station was all but deserted. It seemed that, despite Angela’s misgivings, Null Sector had, in fact, determined that guarding the building was a waste of resources.

It was only at the station’s entrance, when the Overwatch agents had fully emerged into the blinding sunlight, that they found any of Null Sector’s soldiers: two basic troopers, standing guard on either side of the subway’s entrance, that were easily felled by a few swings of Reinhardt’s hammer.

And it was there, their vision bleary and bleached by the shock of sunlight after so long underground, that Angela first saw the city with her own eyes, even though she immediately wished that she hadn’t.

It was like a scene from the apocalypse. Abandoned cars lay parked at the curbs of the road, doing little but catching last week’s trash in their front grilles and windshield wipers. Concrete buildings towered above, dark and empty and devoid of any signs of life, their grim faces still adorned with the vulgar reminders of violence. Shattered windows had dropped broken glass all over the sidewalks, combining with the haphazard spray of bullet holes and graffiti to make the city look more like a warzone than a metropolis.

Even the air itself was hazy, thick with the smoke of fires left unextinguished, and Angela felt her eyes tear up at the suffocating smell of burning rubber.

But regardless of that acrid smoke making her eyes water, Angela felt tears of another type lingering at the corners of her eyes, just for the sheer destruction she was witnessing. Usually, she tried to be optimistic, trying to see the best in people whenever she could, but it was scenes like this that reminded her why she had become a doctor in the first place: because sometimes, people could just be _so cruel._

She had little time to linger on that thought, however, because a group of maybe fifteen purple-painted omnics walked around the street corner just ahead of them, temporarily distracting her from the grim scene.

Even if the dull purple had not given them away, there would have been no mistaking Null Sector’s soldiers. Little more than repurposed maintenance bots, they had been stripped down and reequipped with armor plating and pulse weapons, the menacing orange eye in the middle of each one’s head glowing dangerously.

With a threatening beep, they raised their guns almost in unison, and opened fire on the Overwatch agents, the air suddenly coming alive with the sound of their intermittent gunfire. Immediately, Reinhardt activated his barrier, standing in front of his teammates and soaking up the incoming projectiles with the massive energy shield on his forearm.

“Mercy, Torbjörn, get behind me!” the Crusader shouted, beginning a slow jog in the direction of the group of omnics, closing the distance as his barrier rippled under the repeated impacts of the incoming pulse rounds.

Not needing to be told twice, they quickly fell in step behind him, returning fire from the protection of Reinhardt’s shield.

“Tracer, try to soften them up!” he called, and with a blur of blue light, the British time traveler blinked past them.

“I’m on it, Lieutenant!” she replied, her determination clear in her voice as she surged past her teammates. For a few moments, Angela stopped firing, worried that she would hit Lena herself if she kept it up, but the younger woman kept well out of her friends’ line of fire, dodging anything and everything that was sent her way with absolute ease.

Left and right, omnics were dropped to the ground in a fountain of sparks, their control boards punctured by accurate, targeted fire from the three agents’ ranged weapons, until Reinhardt finally closed the distance, and proceeded to crush his way through the remaining bots with his massive rocket-powered hammer, quickly bringing the short skirmish to its inevitable conclusion.

At their feet, lay the remains of their attackers, sizzling and sparking from the various holes in their armored exterior.

“Ha ha!” Reinhardt boomed, lifting his massive hammer back to his shoulder. “That’s more like it! Torbjörn! Whoever scraps less bots owes the other drinks tomorrow!”

“You’re on!” the engineer replied, one of his rare grins crossing his features. “This ‘Null Sector’ won’t know what hit them!”

Angela rolled her eyes, and attempted briefly to be the voice of reason. “Can you at least _try_ to keep this… competition… mostly quiet? We don’t want to attract any unnecessary attention,” she tried, but she should not have even bothered, with Reinhardt excited as he was.

“COME OUT, YOU BASTARDS!” he immediately shouted, brandishing his hammer at the silent buildings around them. “I’LL FIGHT THE LOT OF YOU!”

With the German man looking immensely pleased with himself, Angela heard Lena beside her let out a nervous giggle. “Well, there goes that plan,” she said. “Guess they know we’re here now, don’t they?”

“I think they do,” Angela replied, shaking her head in exasperation. “Any idea from where you can hack their air defenses, Torbjörn?”

The engineer’s grin faded slowly from his face, going back to his trademark scowl, and he shrugged. “The reports said there was a turret near the courtyard where we’re dropping in the bomb. If I can get access to it, I should be able to bring down their whole defense network. Right now, that’s the best I have.”

“Inspires confidence, doesn’t he?” Mercy said with a grin, not missing the opportunity to send a bit of payback at Torbjörn for his teasing earlier.

Tracer giggled, “I don’t even know why I was worried.”

“Hmph,” he grunted in reply, rolling his eyes and muttering without any real heat in his voice, “It was bad enough when it was just Reinhardt. But with you two as well? It’s gonna be the end of me.”

As he turned away and began to make his way towards their objective, the two women glanced at each other, sharing a look of amusement at the man’s reaction. This was what Angela liked so much about her missions with Torbjörn and Reinhardt: they both understood the need for banter to lighten a mission like this, and were more than willing to trade well-meaning barbs in order to keep spirits up.

And Angela was glad to see Lena warming to that mentality, joking now, to try to keep herself from being too affected by her grim surroundings, at least until their lives were no longer in danger.

She and the others followed Torbjörn, keeping their weapons ready, since it was only a matter of time until Null Sector’s reinforcements arrived, and they resumed their attack.

And before they knew it, they had done exactly that, throwing more troopers, and even a few of their larger omnics: ones with shields like Reinhardt’s and plasma grenade launchers, into the fight against them.

It turned almost into a moving brawl, the agents fighting their way forward, advancing under the cover of Reinhardt’s shield and deadly hammer, leaving randomly scattered robotic corpses throughout the narrow street to their rear. Mercy’s pistol barked over and over, helping her teammates to clear a route through the oncoming enemies with as much precision as she could muster. Beside her, Torbjörn and Reinhardt slammed omnics aside in all directions with their respective weapons, both eager to one-up each other’s kill count, periodically shouting it out to each other and groaning if the other’s was higher.

And all around their team, there was a halo of blue light, flickering and flashing around, rapid-firing pulse rounds into the advancing omnics’ control boards, protecting her friends with all the determination of a person that was defending her home and loved ones. She was nothing but a blur of blue light, never remaining in the same place for more than a fraction of a second, and seeming to have almost a sixth sense for when something dangerous turned her way, always seeming to dodge any incoming fire with a blink and a giggle.

It was as if the omnics themselves were surrounded, even though there was only one woman shooting at them, and they proceeded to melt away like butter in the warm afternoon sun.

It was in the courtyard right in front of England’s most famous clocktower, that Torbjörn crouched by the side of the massive anti-aircraft turret that had been set up there, ducking behind an abandoned car for makeshift cover. “Keep them off me!” he shouted as he opened the panel, and began to fiddle with its control circuits. “I need a moment while I hack the air defenses!”

Reinhardt grunted his acknowledgement as he hurled a ribbon of flame in the direction of a small group of robots, their armor plating melting and exploding beneath its impact. He advanced further in the direction of the approaching omnics, holding the courtyard against their assault and using his thick plate armor and massive shield to shrug off their attacks as if they were nothing.

Meanwhile, Tracer ducked a swinging metal arm, her automatic pistols blazing as she piled shots into the offending omnic’s chest, then hit it with a pistol-whip that sent it crashing over backwards. “Aye, aye!” she replied, her voice momentarily going static as she blinked in the middle of speaking, closing the distance with some of the enemies that were starting to threaten Torbjörn’s position.

Meanwhile, Mercy remained nearby the engineer, taking cover behind the abandoned car whenever she needed to, and contributing where she could with her pulse pistol. She wasn’t quite the kind of crack shot that McCree was, or that Lena had recently become, but she was more than capable of holding her own and defending the engineer while he worked. She just wished her heart wouldn’t leap so aggressively into her throat every single time a weapon swung about to point in Tracer’s direction, trying to pinpoint her location as she danced around them: it was a feeling that was much more distracting than she would have liked.

“Did you get it working yet, Torbjörn?” Lena called when they had finally beaten back the majority of Null Sector’s attack, a grin evident in her voice.

“I need a moment!” the Swede replied, sounding indignant.

“That’s what you said before!”

“I needed a longer moment!” he said, without looking up from the program he was attempting to upload to the defense network.

A stray bullet pinged off the turret’s armor, directly above his head, and he cursed violently, ducking down to make sure he remained fully concealed in his position. “Almost got it,” he muttered to himself. “There” he finished, appearing beside Mercy with his rivet gun ready for use once again and a cross look on his face. “I just radioed the transport pilot, he should be here in a few minutes to drop my bomb off in the courtyard. We just need to hold out until then.”

 _‘Right…’_ Angela thought. _‘And how hard could that be?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah... We don't talk about how (since I never really looked at my own work without being logged in) I never noticed that I accidentally set all the parts of this series so that only Archive users could comment. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to exclude those of you that have been keeping up with this story, even though you don't have an account! If you've been enjoying this story so far, or if you remember wanting to say something about one of the previous chapters, and you weren't able to, feel free to leave a comment, I would love any feedback you might have!
> 
> By the way, as you probably noticed, I included several quotes from the in-game mission, because I thought some of them fit rather well (it's kind of cute how little it took to make some of the interactions between Lena and Angela in that mission seem so much more romantic)
> 
> Anyway, see you next time, with the rest of Lena's first mission!


	11. Uprising - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is - part 2 of Lena's first mission!  
> I apologize again for the wait. It seems like updates every two weeks are the most realistic for me, since it gives me two weekends to work on new chapters and edit them before posting (I don't even know how I managed weekly updates before)  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Sometimes, Angela really hated being right.

For the first several minutes, their luck actually held out. Pistol in hand, its barrel warm from constant firing, Mercy contributed wherever and whenever she could, helping the other three agents to cut their way through the advancing forces of Null Sector.

Torbjörn, too, was sheltered behind the bulk of the abandoned car, launching volley after volley of glowing metal rivets from his gun, cursing quietly whenever return fire grazed past his head a little too closely for comfort. Meanwhile, from their right flank, his turret fired away as well, supplementing his kill count whenever an omnic made the mistake of entering its line of fire.

Reinhardt, on the other hand, was some distance ahead of his teammates, confidently holding his ground against the onslaught, his sturdy armor all the cover he needed against the incoming fire as he crushed omnics left and right with mighty swings of his hammer.

And as for Tracer? The woman was in a class of her own, never visible for more than a fraction of a second as she danced around the battlefield, dodging any and all incoming fire with ease, as she carved a devastating path of her own through their attackers.

As proud as Angela was of her girlfriend, she couldn’t really help the way her heart leapt nervously every time an omnic started to point a weapon in Lena’s direction.

Angela had to admit, in a moment of self-reflection, that this was probably how Lena had felt those several times throughout her training, when the blonde was called for a mission. She just hadn’t expected that worrying about her girlfriend would feel _this_ intense, she thought as she fired her pulse pistol once again, bringing down another omnic that had the audacity to try and point a gun at Lena.

She was actually feeling rather proud of herself. As the battle went on, she was starting to get used to Lena’s presence, and she wasn’t thinking quite so much about protecting that unpredictable blue streak that was her girlfriend. Her heartrate had returned to something a bit more normal, and she no longer felt that same surge of fear every single time the cheery pilot was forced to dodge their enemies’ attacks.

Instead, with some of the adrenaline dying away, she found herself acting almost on autopilot, executing every motion more out of habit than conscious thought. Aim, fire… next target… aim, fire… gun pointing this way… duck quickly… aim, fire… reload.

Several minutes had passed, and it was beginning to look like the omnic assault was well and truly slowing down, so maybe Null Sector was finally starting to give up on their head-on attack. It was almost looking as if Torbjörn had been right, and it really was ‘just’ a matter of holding their ground until the dropship arrived.

It would never cease to surprise her how quickly things could go wrong.

Just as Reinhardt brought his hammer into a mighty swing against the side of a trooper, its metal body crumpling under an impact that sent it flying into a nearby building, Captain Amari’s voice sounded once again over their communication devices, giving them a status report and warning them of incoming forces.

“The dropship should arrive in five minutes. More Omnics closing in on your position,” she said, making the agents aware of the much-heavier metallic footsteps that could be heard rounding the corner across the courtyard from Angela and Torbjörn’s location. The doctor looked up, peeking from behind her cover to watch four massive omnics come into view, their blocky, heavily armored bodies coated in that same dull purple paint that identified every other Null Sector soldier.

Every part of their construction, from the evilly glowing orange eye, to the vicious-looking gatling gun mounted on their backs, said that these omnics were not to be messed with.

Angela had heard of these soldiers. Everyone had. During the Omnic Crisis, they were the siege weapons that were feared by all, wreaking such havoc on any and all soldiers sent against them that after the omnics were defeated, humanity had scrapped every last one. Or at least, they thought they had.

She had no idea how Null Sector had managed to build them, but she was suddenly feeling _very_ exposed behind this flimsy old car.

“Watch out for those Bastions! Or they’ll tear us apart!” Reinhardt cried when he saw them, throwing a normal Null Sector soldier to the ground in a clatter of broken metal as he rushed to get between the Bastions and his teammates, his shield going up in a massive, translucent blue barrier as the heavy omnics transformed into devastating turret emplacements.

Realizing that against that kind of firepower, an abandoned car would provide little more cover than a piece of paper, Mercy and Torbjörn sought the much-sturdier cover behind them, taking shelter behind the massive, heavily-armored base of the now-inactive anti-aircraft turret.

She slammed her back solidly against the wall of steel, hardly feeling her wings digging into her back as adrenaline coursed through her body, a barely-audible whine building in pitch as four gatling guns began to spool up. In a glance to her side, she could see that Torbjörn had joined her in safety, and in a flash of blue barely a fraction of a second later, so did Lena, looking rather frightened.

Just Reinhardt was left beyond their cover, and Captain Amari contacted them once again, her voice urgent in imploring him to join them in safety, but the rest of her words were lost as the air around them suddenly came alive with the ear-shattering roar of relentless gunfire.

Individual shots were completely indistinguishable, instead turning into a _deafening_ rolling thunder as the Bastions pounded away at their position, rounds gouging deep grooves in the structure that was protecting them. Angela covered her ears, her world turning into a sea of noise and vibration, as the armor behind her shook with every bullet impact.

Vaguely, some part of Angela’s brain registered Torbjörn’s turret erupting into flames as it was torn to shreds by the devastating barrage unleashed by the omnics, as well as Reinhardt’s shield absolutely _lighting up_ with the furious bombardment.

The energy of his barrier was barely translucent anymore, instead glowing with the seemingly endless rain of fire, beginning to buckle under the force of the absorbed projectiles. Equally vaguely, Angela thought she heard Reinhardt shout that his barrier was failing as he ran blindly backwards, hoping against hope that he could make it into cover before it shattered.

Already, giant cracks were beginning to form in the wall of blue energy, its entire front surface perpetually lit up by the barrage of armor-piercing rounds that was tearing anything and everything around them to shreds.

In a split-second decision, Reinhardt leapt for cover, just as his shield exploded under the pressure, fragments of the energy barrier thrown in all directions like a broken window in the instant before they disappeared completely, exposing him for a fraction of a second to a hail of gunfire that tore massive grooves into his armor as if it were made of tinfoil.

His armor heavily damaged, but intact, Reinhardt collapsed to the ground beside his teammates in a clatter of metal. He lay there for a few moments, catching his breath as the barrage _finally_ came to a stop, leaving the entire courtyard deadly silent, the agents’ ears still ringing with the noise.

It took a moment for Angela to recover her senses, but when she did, she locked on to Reinhardt with her Caduceus staff, scanning his body for injuries. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that there were none, and that the last of her four friends was also safe, his armor having protected him despite the massive gouging it had taken in its outer surface.

“Those ones are _much_ more dangerous than the ones in the Crisis,” he grunted as he rolled over, pulling himself up into a sitting position against the wall of steel that was currently keeping them safe. “I’ve never seen _anything_ break through my shield so quickly… except maybe that time I was hit by a tank shell.”

As Torbjörn replied, showing his relief at seeing his friend safe through a thorough chastising, that it was ‘your own damn fault you got hit by that shell anyways, so don’t go complaining to me,’ Angela realized that Reinhardt was right. The Crusader program was _designed_ to repel Bastions, their massive energy barriers and thick alloyed armor providing more than enough means to protect them and their brothers-in-arms as they fought their way to victory.

But this… these Bastions had torn through that very shield like butter, and with only a few more seconds of fire, probably would have punched their way straight through his armor too, which was absolutely _not_ something she wanted to think about, even for a second.

As that realization sunk in, it seemed that Torbjörn was thinking on the same lines, and successfully put her thoughts into words: “They must be using some kind of special armor-piercing ammunition. Something that can punch its way through most shields and armor much more easily than their normal rounds. That’s the only way they could have done that so quickly.” He paused, then continued after a few moments, “I just wanna know where they got these damn things. I thought we got rid of them all 20 years ago!”

“You and me both!” Reinhardt said, with a groan of exasperation. “It looks like we missed a few.”

“You think?” Torbjörn replied sarcastically, then gestured at the shield generator on Reinhardt’s forearm, which Angela only now realized had received a thorough gouging of its own, damaged beyond repair by the several bullets that had hit it directly, tearing into the material and damaging the device until it fizzled and flashed constantly, rendering it unable to generate anything but smoke and a dangerous whining noise.

The knight switched it off, and everyone looked at each other, at a bit of a loss. Without the cover from Reinhardt’s shield, and with four Bastions staring down their position, they would never be able to even leave the courtyard, much less clear it enough for the dropship to land without being shredded itself. The agents were trapped, using a disabled turret for cover from four of the deadliest war machines the world had ever seen.

“Well,” Tracer said, letting out a nervous giggle. “This is a right pickle, isn’t it loves?”

“Any ideas, Torbjörn?” Mercy asked, but when he shrugged, she turned to Reinhardt, and received a similar response. Pinned down as they were, they had no way of escaping without some kind of cover, or a distraction, neither of which would be easy to produce from their current location.

“We’re all sitting ducks without your shield,” Torbjörn said. “Reinhardt’s armor won’t take more than a few more seconds of that, so there’s no way for him to get close. Mercy and I might be able to get off a few shots, but if we risk poking our heads out, we might not be getting them back again afterwards. And besides, they’re too well-armored for us to do any real damage to them from the front. If we could get behind them and destroy their control board, we might have a chance, but there’s no way to get over there without being killed at least a thousand times on the way.”

“What about me?” came a soft voice from beside her, and Angela span around in shock, shaking her head violently in response to what the younger woman seemed to be suggesting.

“No way,” she said quickly, feeling all of the nerves and worry of the past few hours surging back to her in a fraction of a second. “I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt. It’s your first mission after all…” She looked to Reinhardt and Torbjörn for support, hoping that they would agree with her in keeping their rookie from going on what Angela was nearly certain was going to be a suicide mission.

Memories of the Slipstream came rushing back. The emotional pain and suffering she had experienced, knowing that Lena was gone forever, and that feeling of oppressive loneliness that had accompanied it. Lena had only just been returned in one piece, and Angela didn’t think she could bear to lose her again.

“That could work,” Torbjörn said thoughtfully, unaware of the doctor’s internal struggle. “Even if I could manage to repair Reinhardt’s shield, there’s no way it would ever absorb enough damage anyways, so maybe the only way really is to avoid getting hit at all. And if you get behind them, you should have a much easier time destroying their control boards. Do you think you can do it, Tracer?”

The brunette drew herself up to her full height, puffing up her chest just a little bit, and giving him a small salute. “I know I can, sir.”

“Hmm,” he said in response, his eyes twinkling with a newfound respect for the young woman. “Maybe I was wrong about you, after all.”

Angela looked from one to the other, terrified at the way the situation was so quickly getting out of her control. Were they really going to send in her girlfriend? Against four of the most dangerous weapons ever built? _Alone?!_

An image sprang unbidden into her mind, and for a few moments, all Angela could see was her lover, the light leaving her eyes as bullets tore into her body, wounded far beyond Angela’s healing capabilities and bleeding out before her very eyes. Just another innocent soldier to die, fighting in the petty disputes of other people’s wars. Wars that they could have, and should have, avoided if they had just _talked._

“I won’t let you down, loves,” Lena said, letting out a little squeak as Angela pulled her into a hug, her voice growing quieter at her girlfriend’s desperate embrace, “Don’t worry, Angie. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Please…” she begged. “Don’t… If you get hurt… I can’t lose you again.”

Lena shook her head determinedly. “There’s no other way. Without Reinhardt’s shield, everyone’s stuck here. You know I could never let you get yourself hurt, so you stay right here, and I’ll be back in a tick, yeah? Let me protect you for a change.” She caressed Angela’s cheek tenderly, her thumb streaking a bit of dirt onto the blonde’s worry-filled face.

“We’ll find another way.” Angela said, trying and failing to stop a few tears from rolling down her face.

Lena smiled softly and shook her head, letting the doctor rest her forehead against her own, and gazing into her eyes. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll be extra careful. And if I get into trouble, I’ll just recall right back here. It’ll be like I never left.”

Angela sniffed, shaking her head stubbornly. The pilot cupped the doctor’s face and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be okay, yeah? I can do this.”

She _really_ didn’t want to give in. But with the dropship in danger as it closed in on their position, and with the three of them trapped behind their cover, she had to admit that Lena probably had the best chance of getting them all out of this alive.

And it wasn’t that she didn’t have _faith_ in Lena’s abilities. Very much the opposite, in fact. But how could she _not_ be worried when her girlfriend was planning to charge headfirst into four Bastion units?

The doctor acquiesced with a small, hesitant nod. “Promise you’ll come back to me?” she whispered, and Lena gave her a sincere smile of agreement. One that she could almost believe, if it weren’t for the way her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears.

Lena nodded. “Promise,” she said, giving the doctor another gentle kiss on the lips. Then, she drew her pistols, settled into a crouch, and gave her teammates a little wink. “Be right back!” she chirped quietly.

And in a flash of blue, she disappeared.

For a few moments, nothing happened, with the Brit’s speed and ability to manipulate time catching the omnics completely off-guard. Then, the roar was back, and four high-powered gatling guns began to spray their ordinance in a wild attempt to hit the unpredictable blue streak.

Angela lasted all of a fraction of a second, before she couldn’t help but peek a careful eye around her cover, her heart thundering as she watched her girlfriend… the woman she had lost, and only so recently recovered… dancing with death once again.

As nervous as she was for Lena’s safety, Angela couldn’t help but be awed by her abilities. The plucky Brit giggled briefly in exhilaration as she practically appeared and disappeared at will, teleporting around the four omnics faster than the eye could see, leaving their guns in a desperate but futile attempt to track her motions.

Bullets rained in all directions, the omnics unable to react quickly enough to the time traveler, with Lena’s own pulse rounds ricocheting and bouncing off the Bastion’s well-armored skin as she tried to identify the weak spot that Torbjörn had described.

Puffs of dust and concrete powder rose up around her, and she poured shots into the leftmost omnic, blinking forward, dashing up into the air, recalling back, and leaving the omnics spinning almost comically as they tried to find her.

Eventually, she found an opening, and ducked in behind it, pulling the triggers of her pistols to let loose a quick barrage directly into the control board at its back, just to the rear of the main turret. She recalled immediately as the other three located her position, immediately filling the area she had been standing a moment before with bullets.

But the damage was already done, and the leftmost Bastion stuttered, its gun faltering before spooling down, its power and control failing completely after Tracer’s precise, targeted attack.

She tried it again with the one on the right, but this time, they were waiting for her, and she only just managed to blink away in time before the pavement was riddled with holes. Instead, Lena pulled the pulse bomb from her back and set the arming timer, blinking directly in between the two central omnics, which were hopefully just close enough together to catch them both…

She dropped the pulse bomb between them, and recalled at the last moment, the force of the blast blowing both omnics apart and sending chips of concrete, bits of destroyed robot, and chunks of smoldering armor flying every which way.

Lena reappeared and let out a little giggle. “Nailed it!” she chirped as she closed in on the remaining omnic, who tried valiantly to resist her attacks, but, unable to either protect its own weak point or predict the young woman’s motions, was eventually brought down by a full clip directly to the control board.

“Wanker,” she muttered triumphantly, stepping back from the destruction as that final omnic’s light finally died away, and the courtyard was finally silent once again.

Altogether, the entire fight probably lasted less than fifteen seconds. It certainly seemed that way from the impressed looks on the other two agents’ faces. But for Angela, it was the longest fifteen seconds of her life, and she let out a massive, gasping sigh of relief at seeing Lena unharmed.

_Would it be too cliché to run out and hug her like they do in movies?_

She decided it probably was, so instead stepped out with her teammates, all three walking precariously across the devastated courtyard, stepping over fragments of destroyed omnic and coughing in the dust-filled air.

Lena turned to look at them, holstering her pistols and giving a tired little half-smile, and Angela finally gave in, pulling her into the biggest hug of her life, torn between saying that she was brilliant, or telling her off for worrying her like that.

“Well done, Tracer!” Reinhardt praised, his armor’s dozens of new dents creaking against each other as he wrapped his arms around both of them, pulling them both into a quick bear hug. “I knew I liked you, rookie!”

Lena started to reply, but Angela cut her off by crushing their lips together, effectively ending any attempt she might have made to speak. For a few moments, the brunette’s lips were slack in surprise, but then they quickly responded, curling into a smile as she returned the kiss.

Angela was still debating what to say to her girlfriend, so she decided on both when they broke contact. “You were incredible, Lena,” she said. “But I swear, if you ever do anything like that again…”

The pilot giggled. “I’ll try, love. But I feel like we both have the wrong job to promise anything like that, don’t we?”

She sighed in reply. “You’re right. I’m being unfair.”

They heard a grumble from behind them, and Torbjörn muttered. “If you two are done being sappy, we do still have a mission to complete.” He paused for a few moments, gathering himself. “And… uh… speaking of unfair… um… I might have… been a bit unfair myself, Tracer.”

Lena and Angela turned in shock, watching him with raised eyebrows as he continued, “I was wrong about you. I’ve been nothing but grouchy, and you still put yourself on the line to get us out of that situation, so I have to say… I’m sorry. You’re a much better addition to this team than I thought.”

Lena’s smile got even bigger, and she was looking between the other three agents in something close to awe, as if she were looking at a new family for the first time.

Meanwhile, behind her, Reinhardt gave a chortle and clapped Torbjörn on the back heartily. “You’re getting soft, old friend! Saying something nice to a new recruit? On her first mission, no less?”

As the two girls giggled quietly, Torbjörn puffed himself up to his full height and crossed his arms. “Yes, yes… I said something nice once. What a surprise. Now don’t go getting used to it, understood?”

Lena nodded hurriedly, even though her eyes were still twinkling with happiness and mirth. “Understood, sir.”

Torbjörn grunted in approval, then turned around and started fiddling with his communications device. “Good. Now, I wonder where that dropship got off to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you all thought! This was an interesting chapter, to say the least, since I really wanted to have a scene where our favorite grumpy Swedish engineer develops the respect that he seems to have for Lena by the time the game's events come around, and it had the added bonus of a bit of angst :) you know me...
> 
> Speaking of which, the scene between Angela and Lena is heavily inspired by a piece of fanart I saw (I'm not going to post it because I don't know if the creator would be okay with it). It's in black and white, and it has Angela resting her forehead against Lena's, clearly asking her not to go off on some mission, and Lena seems to have to do so. It's absolutely adorable, and I used it as a base point to create their interaction.
> 
> Anyways, I really hope you liked the chapter, and also that real life and all that is going okay for everyone! See you next time with part 3 of the mission!


	12. Uprising - Part 3

Fortunately, as their mission continued long into the night, it was looking more and more like those four Bastions were the worst Null Sector could throw at them.

There were still plenty of standard troopers between them and the power plant: basic maintenance bots of all shapes and sizes, repainted and reequipped into weapons of war. But even with Reinhardt’s shield out of commission and his armor heavily damaged, the Overwatch agents were still able to clear a path with relative ease, the bots’ light armor and weapons proving to be no match for their highly-trained opponents.

Ironically, it turned out that fighting Null Sector was one of the easiest parts of getting Torbjörn’s bomb through the streets of London. Because despite his best assurances, moving it was an absolute _nightmare._

Just disconnecting it from the dropship took nearly twenty minutes, and even after getting it running, it still gave them problem after problem, being both unbelievably slow, and _horribly_ suited to the city’s narrow streets. It took _hours,_ and by the time they finally reached the front doors of the power plant, midnight had long since come and gone, and Angela was ready to throw both Torbjörn and his stupid bomb off the tallest building she could find.

By that point, everyone was showing the telltale signs of exhaustion, and Lena was starting to look like she was about to collapse.

Concerned, Angela pulled her aside during a lull in the fighting, leaving Torbjörn alone as he rigged the bomb’s detonator. “Are you okay?” she asked, using a hand to turn the brunette’s face towards her own. “You look tired, Lena.”

It was a bit of an understatement, the doctor realized, noticing for the first time the dark circles under Lena’s eyes, and the way her knees seemed ready to buckle.

“I’m fine, love. Don’t…” she paused, poorly suppressing a massive yawn. “…don’t worry about me.”

Angela rolled her eyes, knowing she should have expected a response like that. “You’re not a good liar, you know,” she replied, suddenly feeling an overwhelming urge to yawn herself.

Suddenly, she realized just how tired Lena must be. _She_ was exhausted, since like her girlfriend, the combined emotions from hearing the news with the nerves due to their upcoming mission, had completely sapped her energy. For the past few hours, it felt as if she had been running on little more than adrenaline.

What time _was_ it, anyway?

She glanced quickly behind her, hoping that the clocktower was still visible from their position, but she was disappointed. While she could just make out its shape, silhouetted against the night sky between the ominous shadows of concrete structures, it, like every other building for over a kilometer, stood grimly in the darkness of the night, the only illumination coming not from its electric lights, but from the faint orange glow of still-burning fires scattered around the city.

“Athena, what time is it?” Angela asked into her earpiece.

“The time is 04:36 hours.”

The doctor sighed, having expected as much. In about an hour and a half, she and Lena would have been awake for a full 24 hours, and between that and the sheer _toll_ on their bodies, no wonder she was exhausted.

But while Angela was completely drained – emotionally, mentally, and physically – from both the lack of sleep and the nonstop combat, Lena must have been on another level of fatigue entirely.

Her chronal abilities, unlike what they might seem from the outside, were not teleportation. Instead, she was changing the flow of her own timeline, speeding herself up so that a simple run from place to place would, to the outside world, move faster than the eye could even see.

Which meant that every time she executed a blink, to her, she had still taken the time and energy to run that distance herself, while no one else could even sense the time passing. So while they had woken up at the same time and walked the same distances on paper, Lena had likely run several _kilometers_ further, and had been awake even _longer._

“I know. I _am_ pretty tired,” Lena replied, jolting the doctor out of her thoughts. “But don’t worry about me, Angie. You look tired too, and I don’t want you wasting all your energy worrying, okay?”

Angela shook her head. Did Lena seriously think that she could just… _stop_ worrying about her? Did she really think she mattered so little?

 _“Of_ _course_ I’m going to worry about you,” she replied, her eyes finding Lena’s in the darkness, and holding her gaze for long enough to let her meaning properly sink in. “I’m a doctor; it’s practically in the job description. Not to mention the small detail that you’re my girlfriend, who also just happens to be the first person ever to travel in time, be attached to the real world by nothing more than a glorified backpack, and be in the middle of a warzone on no sleep. How could I _not_ worry?”

Lena sighed, acknowledging the point with a tired smile. “I know. I just hate to see you stressed, love. But seriously, you think I don’t worry about you too? Just replace the time travel with a bloodstream full of mostly untested nanites, while your ‘glorified backpack’ is keeping you _thirty meters off the ground.”_

The doctor let out a short laugh, knowing that Lena was right. She really couldn’t pretend to have the monopoly on worrying. “Very true. We live dangerous lives. But since you know I’m going to worry anyway, please just tell me, are you feeling alright?”

The other woman took a moment before replying. “Honestly, I don’t even know what’s keeping me going,” she said. “I’m gonna need a _long_ nap when this is over. I’m bloody thirsty, too. My canteen ran out an hour ago. You?”

“Me too. I’m exhausted, and I could also really use some water. Mine ran out about the same time. It turns out an abandoned city is a pretty bad place to find water,” Angela replied, then smirked. “It’s a shame, really, since it means I can’t tell you off for not staying properly hydrated without sounding like a hypocrite.”

Lena hummed, a grin of her own breaking across her face. “Such a tragedy. How will you ever recover?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to manage somehow.”

“Brat,” Lena said with a giggle, affectionately flicking the taller woman’s forehead.

“Maybe, but I’m your brat.”

Lena let out another laugh, but didn’t speak immediately, leaving Angela desperately wishing the alleyway were just a bit brighter, so she could see the cute blush that she knew had formed on Lena’s cheeks.

Unfortunately, it seemed that today, the world was conspiring against her, because not only was she unable to see well in that dark alley, but Reinhardt and Torbjörn chose that exact moment to finish rigging the detonator, effectively cutting off their conversation right there.

“The bomb goes off in a little less than three minutes,” Torbjörn said, oblivious to his interruption. “I recommend we all find some solid cover.”

Reinhardt shrugged. “I would suggest standing behind my shield, but…” he chuckled, gesturing at the still-useless shield generator on his left arm. “It might be better to find something a bit more solid.”

The two women nodded, all business once again, and followed their teammates to find shelter behind one of the buildings.

* * *

To Lena, when the bomb went off, it was as if the explosion had shattered the night sky, lighting it up in bright orange as a thunderous boom echoed through the streets. For a few instants, even behind their cover, it seemed as if the sun had risen early, a massive ball of fire and rubble erupting into the air just outside of the power plant’s armored front doors. Flaming debris rained down, twisted bits of metal crashing to the ground over and over until the world eventually went dark and silent once again.

Lena withdrew her fingers from her ears, and glanced around at her teammates, their dazed expressions mirroring her own as they climbed out from behind cover to survey the destruction.

She stood on slightly unsteady legs, still a bit stunned by the force of the explosion, and felt a soft hand slip into her own. Angela stood beside her, looking equally shaken as she brushed off some of the dust and dirt that had settled on her blue uniform.

They gave each other an uncertain smile, then stepped out from behind the building, their fingers still intertwined as they helped each other find their footing.

Lena heard Angela’s small intake of breath as the door of the power plant came into view. Or, rather, what was left of it.

The bomb had blown the massive, armored steel door wide open, tearing it to shreds and scattering bits of metal and pulverized concrete all down the street, leaving a crater in the pavement beneath it. All around the hole in the door, the edges were jagged and sharp, looking almost as if it had been cut apart by a massive can opener.

As if by mutual agreement, Lena’s and Angela’s hands slipped apart and flicked their respective weapons from their holsters in a well-practiced movement. They looked around, feeling apprehensive, and met their teammates just outside the shattered door.

“Well, it certainly did the job, Torbjörn!” Reinhardt said with a laugh, giving his shorter friend a heavy pat on the back.

The engineer nodded and stepped over the random pieces of smoldering scrap that now filled the entrance, then began to make his way into the Underworld with his friend by his side. “Now we just need to get those people back from these omnic bastards!”

Lena glanced once at Angela, who gave her a small, encouraging smile. Then, the brunette took a deep breath and followed in his footsteps, setting foot for the very first time inside the entrance to the omnic city known as the Underworld.

When she stepped through the doorway, it was all Lena could do not to gasp in awe. There was an entire city below them, filled with buildings and streets and lighting, just as much a dense metropolis as the human city on the surface. It had benches and cars and rubbish bins, giving the entire place a familiarity that she didn’t quite expect from a city populated entirely by robots.

She had always known omnics were more like humans than either group would like to admit, but this just made it all the more obvious as the Overwatch agents descended the steps, eventually arriving at the level of the streets of the underground city.

At that thought, Lena felt a pang of guilt settle in her stomach, remembering all the omnics she had killed today. It was just so easy to start to see them as ruthless, homicidal machines, programmed for nothing but death, and to ignore that they probably had lives and families of their own simply because they were made of metal. Especially when standing amidst the destruction Null Sector had caused to London.

She quickly pushed those doubts aside. That was exactly it: Null Sector were _not_ the same as the innocent bystanders – the normal omnics being mistreated for the misdeeds of others. They actually were dangerous: the bad guys lurking in the shadows, waiting for the first chance to bully and murder and destroy. They were terrorists, and that’s what terrorists did, after all. How many innocent people had they killed already, just in the last few days?

_Speaking of innocent people…_

Lena glanced around, becoming suddenly, ominously aware of yet another way the Underworld was similar to aboveground London.

Right now, it was _deserted._ Even as they emerged onto what looked like a main road, there should have been _someone_ about, even at this time of the morning. Lena had lived her entire life in a city, and she had _never_ looked outside to see it this empty, with not a single person on their way to work, or the pub, or to buy milk or medicine or whatever they needed so badly in the wee hours. Or, she supposed, perhaps here it was probably not milk or medicine, but oil and spares.

Even though there was light and power unlike in the streets of London, there were still no people. Instead, she noticed in several of the buildings’ windows, the faces of several omnics peering down at them, as if they were nervous or scared of what was unfolding in the streets below.

Which meant Null Sector wasn’t quite as benevolent to “their people” as they liked to pretend. Like any militant occupation force, they wanted complete control and order, and while they hadn’t exactly destroyed the Underworld the way they had done to King’s Row, the aftershocks of their fear and terrorism could still be felt even here.

 _‘Of course…’_ a small, traitorous part of her brain whispered, _‘It might be_ us _that they’re afraid of…’_

She shook that thought away as well. Even if they had heard the explosion all the way at the front door of the power plant, there was no way _this many_ omnics would be so afraid of only _four_ Overwatch agents that they wouldn’t even come outside. Even if they somehow thought that Overwatch meant them harm.

They just needed to find Mondatta and the rest of the prisoners, and get out of here before Null Sector managed to send even more reinforcements. As much as Lena wanted to explore this strange, hidden world that had been living under her feet for almost her entire life, it was probably for the best that they made themselves scarce as quickly as possible.

The trouble was, she had _no idea_ where to start looking. The main government building would be a reasonable place to start, since it would probably be one of the first things Null Sector had taken over, but she didn’t even know if the omnics _had_ a government, much less where it might be.

“Any ideas, Tracer?” Reinhardt asked after they were forced to dispatch yet another of Null Sector’s patrol squadrons. It wasn’t his intention, but it reminded her once again of how useless she suddenly felt, even as the echoes of their gunshots through the deserted streets were still fading into the distance.

“Not one. I’ve never been here before, sir.”

“I had to hope,” he muttered, sounding disappointed. “I can’t even tell if we’re going in circles.”

“I know we’re going deeper into the city,” Lena offered. “I’m sure of _that_ much. We just have to hope there’s… guards, or… flags, or I dunno, _something._ Anything that could be a sign of their headquarters. I can’t think of anywhere else to start.”

“If we see anyone, we could ask,” Angela suggested, and Torbjörn scoffed.

“Trust an omnic? Yeah, right,” he muttered angrily.

“It may be our only choice,” the doctor replied. “It’s not as if we have a map.”

God, a map would be _brilliant_ about now. One of those cartoony, extremely over-simplified tourist ones, that just showed them points of interest and nothing else, with lots of easy directions to get from place to place. It would be a dream come true, especially for navigating a maze like this.

But unfortunately, it was exactly that: a dream. With the omnics’ seclusion, they probably didn’t have much in the way of tourism. So, instead, Lena guided the others further on into the Underworld, hoping against hope to run into something… _anything_ that would give them a hint of the hostages’ location.

They _had to_ succeed. Not only was the city counting on them, but maybe even the world. There might not be another chance for peace between humans and omnics if she failed to guide the strike team correctly.

It was with itchy, red-rimmed eyes that Lena scanned her surroundings, desperate for any sign of _anything_ out of place. She figured, with a pessimistic chuckle, that omnics probably didn’t even need signs or street names to remember where something was, and instead could just download a map whenever they needed it.

She wanted to scream with frustration.

All this, just to be defeated by _getting lost._ Even when they had finally managed to find a building that looked a bit more official, it turned out to have _nothing_ inside: no troops, no hints, and definitely no hostages. It was probably a post office, for all Lena knew.

The sun was most certainly up by now, and she was _so exhausted_ that her thoughts were hardly coherent anymore. It was all her fault that they were lost. Hope drained away from her as she numbly engaged another of Null Sector’s patrols in a gunfight, the use of her abilities further depleting what minimal reserves of energy she had left.

She wanted to collapse onto a bench and cry. She almost did, especially seeing the looks on the other agents’ faces when it began to sink in that they had come _so close_ yet _so far_ to completing their mission.

She was so lost in her own thoughts, so inebriated by lack of sleep, that she never even noticed the person approaching her and her teammates until they were practically right in front of them, hands already extended to show that they were unarmed.

Lena kicked herself mentally for her lapse in perception. If this newcomer had meant them harm, they would probably all be dead. Being tired and worn-out was no excuse.

But all of a sudden, her brain picked up on something else. Something that made her freeze up in surprise. They were in _the Underworld._ But clearly, that was no omnic approaching them. It was a human.

In the middle of the omnics’ unfriendliest, most isolationist city, they were being approached by a human woman, her professional attire dirty and torn, and her voice full of gratitude at having finally found the Overwatch team. And it wasn’t just any human woman.

All of a sudden, Lena recognized her.

That mass of red hair, that once ran down her shoulders in long, smooth locks, now messily sticking out every which way. Eyes misty with tears of relief, hazel in color, and set in a face cutely decorated by a spray of freckles. And lips that broke into a genuine smile that Lena knew so well.

How could she _not_ recognize her? She was her ex-girlfriend, after all.

“Emily?!” she cried out in shock at the apparition from the past standing before her. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emily? What's she doing here??  
>  \- as you can tell, I quite liked the suggestion: my thanks to SkipperPenguin :)
> 
> Sorry (but only a little bit) for the cliffhanger :P
> 
> See you next time!


	13. The Last Place You Check

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm back!
> 
> I'm so sorry for the delay since the last chapter. My girlfriend got really sick a while back, and I wanted to do my absolute best to take care of her. She's better now, though, and I'm so relieved! She is my everything and I love her so much.
> 
> Then, between finals and me having to rewrite this chapter what felt like 40 times because I was never really happy with it, I was never able to post. But I'm back now, so I hope you like it!

Lena was frozen in place, her mind whirring at about a million kilometers per hour. At first, she had thought it was just a trick of the light, or some part of her exhausted brain bringing the ghosts of her past to the forefront of her imagination.

But it really was Emily, and those soft hazel eyes turned slowly to lock with hers, disbelief of her own painting across her tear-streaked features as both women stared at each other in surprise.

That face brought a whole _series_ of memories to her mind, and tears to match Emily’s sprung to her eyes as the entirety of their romantic relationship suddenly flashed rapid-fire through her mind.

In a heartbeat, she found herself remembering the first time they met, the first time they talked, the first time they kissed, almost as if it were yesterday. She remembered the day Emily had received her college acceptance letter admitting her to University College Dublin, and even though Lena could not afford attending university herself, she had been ecstatic on her girlfriend’s behalf, kissing her over and over on the cheek and telling her how proud she was. She remembered their video calls while Emily was away at uni, trying to keep their long-distance relationship alive, her girlfriend _swamped_ with schoolwork while she herself worked _murderous_ hours, trying desperately to make ends meet while pulling together enough money to pay for her flight school.

But with both women so overwhelmed with school and work, it was almost inevitable that they would fall out of touch.

She remembered the way their conversations got shorter and more sporadic, with both women forced to cancel more and more often because they had no time. She remembered how they both eventually agreed to take a break, realizing that they were hardly even acting like girlfriends anymore. And she remembered the day she realized she wasn’t in love with Emily anymore: the day the redhead told her she had hooked up with some girl at a college party, and Lena realized that she wasn’t jealous.

In the vacuum of their old romance, however, trust and respect transformed into a beautiful friendship that, if anything, Lena cherished even more.

Emily had been her biggest supporter when she had been accepted for her position at Overwatch, especially when Lena had called her from her room on her second day of her new job, spending almost an hour gushing about how _unbelievably hot_ her new coworker was. And Emily had just laughed when Lena told her the story of her first time with Angela, and assured her that her story was “so very Lena.”

But of all the memories, the one she remembered most of all was the one that shattered her heart so thoroughly that she cried for hours.

Not long after her chronal accelerator was completed, Lena had finally had the chance to check her immense list of recorded messages from the time she was lost in the void, and had found one from Emily that dated all the way back to the morning of the Slipstream accident:

 _‘Hey, Lena,’_ the recording had said, Emily’s voice full of happiness and hope. _‘I know you’re probably not going to hear this until after the flight, but I just wanted to make sure I wished you good luck! I believe in you, love. And you’re absolutely going to make everyone proud. I’ll be watching from here on the telly, but I wanna hear all about it when you get back anyway. Lots of love from your best friend, Emily.’_

Barely an hour after the message had been saved to her inbox, Lena had disappeared without a trace when the Slipstream went down. Just knowing the way Emily must have been devastated, believing that she would never have a chance to say a proper goodbye to her best friend, whom she had seen die on television, had torn Lena’s heart in two. She sat in her room for hours, tears streaming down her cheeks as she called Emily back over and over, only to find that every number or address that she tried was no longer valid.

With no way of contacting her, Lena had all but resigned herself to never seeing her again.

Until today, where said best friend was standing right in front of her, a bit worse for wear, but _real._

Slowly breaking themselves out of their near-trance, both women stepped forward hesitantly, then leapt into each other’s arms, not sure whether to laugh or cry.

“Lena?” Emily muttered as she wrapped her arms shakily around the other woman. “Oh my god, it really is you! You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

“Emily! I thought I’d never see you again,” Lena exclaimed. She still couldn’t decide if she should laugh or cry, so she found herself doing a bit of both.

“You have to help me, Lena.” Emily said, her words coming out breathless and rushed, with a note of begging entering her voice as her arms tightened around her friend. “I managed to escape, they told me to come for help. And I couldn’t even find my way out, but I heard gunshots and I found you and your friends, and I really need your help. Please?”

Lena rubbed Emily’s back comfortingly, trying to piece together the other woman’s meaning rather unsuccessfully. “Love, I don’t understand. Slow down and start again from the beginning, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, Emily stepped back from the shorter woman’s embrace, making a visible effort to speak more slowly and concisely. “The mayor. I’ve been working at his office for a while now, since I left college, and I was helping prepare for the discussions between him and Mondatta when Null Sector attacked and took everyone prisoner. But I’m just an intern, so the omnics weren’t really paying too much attention to me… he told me if I had a chance to escape, I needed to find help. And I finally found you.”

Reinhardt looked thoughtful. “So you’ve been wandering around looking for us since you escaped?”

Emily nodded. “I escaped this morning. Or I guess it was yesterday now. I wasn’t necessarily looking for Overwatch _specifically,_ just anyone that might be able to help. I haven’t made much progress getting out, though, since I’ve been mostly trying to stay out of sight.”

As the German man nodded in sympathy, Lena spoke up once again, her voice quiet. “You’ve been hiding out here all by yourself all day? I’m so sorry, love, that must’ve been terrifying.”

Emily nodded, her tears threatening to spill down her cheeks once again. She tucked her face into Lena’s shoulder once more.

“Do you think you could lead us back there?” Lena asked hopefully, and as Emily nodded against the fabric of her uniform, the agents all perked up at the news, knowing that the end to their hopeless searching might finally be in sight.

* * *

“That’s it,” Emily finally said, after what felt like an eternity in the zigzagging streets of the Underworld.

Lena blinked her eyes a few times, a little bleary as she tried to focus on the world around her, the sound of the other woman’s voice pulling her from her state of semi-consciousness. She had almost forgotten that Emily was even here, given her uncharacteristic silence so far.

Although, she had to admit, it was also uncharacteristic that _she_ hadn’t tried to say anything either, since by now she needed to concentrate whatever remaining energy she had on staying awake long enough to even _reach_ the hostages. With tensions running high and energy running low, maybe the time for catching up really was later. Tomorrow perhaps, after a nice, long rest in a warm, cozy bed…

She shook herself awake.

_Not now, Lena!_

Even the mere _thought_ of it had almost sent her straight to sleep.

Right now, they just needed to get inside, rescue the hostages, and radio Commander Morrison. Then, he could tell the British military that the threat to the lives of Mondatta, the mayor, and untold others was finally over, so it would be safe to attack.

And then, just maybe, they could meet the advancing soldiers halfway, and this whole nightmare would be over.

They had left Emily outside the decrepit building that was their target, the young woman keeping herself well out of the line of fire, with an added, unnecessary reminder to stay out of sight. Reasonably confident that she would be safe enough for the time being, they slipped inside the dark, run-down building as quietly as they could.

Lena made a mental note to thank Emily again later. Without her help, they could have spent over a _week_ in this city below a city, searching every single building basement one after another before recognizing this place for what it was, if they _ever_ did.

And by that point, the captives would have been long dead. All it took was a few patrols reporting the veritable trail of dead omnic terrorists that Overwatch had left behind, and it wouldn’t exactly be difficult to put two and two together and determine that _some kind_ of strike force was down here.

Assuming they hadn’t already figured it out by the giant hole in the front of the power plant, of course.

But hopefully, with Emily’s help, they had arrived before any harm had come to the hostages.

The agents crept inside, letting their eyes adjust to the near-total darkness, the only meaningful light coming from the glowing chronal accelerator on Lena’s chest.

_I guess that’s one good thing that’s come from the Slipstream. Who needs flashlights?_

Although, she supposed even that was a mixed blessing, since it made stealth almost completely impossible. Because of her status as a walking lighthouse, Tracer was positioned at the rear of their small convoy, where her movements could be stopped _before_ coming into view of hostile eyes. Meanwhile, Mercy, who had her Valkyrie suit deactivated to prevent emitting too much extra light of its own, had taken the lead, peaking around every corner with the softest footsteps she could manage.

At the end of the corridor, there was a locked door, and they stopped before it, hearing the monotone, metallic-sounding voices from inside.

 _‘Ready?’_ they asked each other nonverbally, their eyes searching each other’s faces for confirmation in the light given off by Lena’s accelerator.

 _‘Yes,’_ was the unanimous response.

Torbjörn, Mercy, and Tracer took up positions on either side of the door, while Reinhardt backed off a bit and lowered his shoulder at the door. Then, he pressed a button, and his rockets fired, charging toward the door with tremendous speed.

With a sudden, shrieking crash of fracturing metal, the near-total silence was shattered as the door flew off its hinges, landing Reinhardt in the middle of the next room, with his colleagues joining him mere moments later.

Immediately, bullets began to fly, and the Overwatch agents quickly cut down the surprised omnic guards. It was quick, loud, and violent, but to Lena, it passed just as every other fight in the past few hours: one constant blur of shouting and smoke and noise. She was almost surprised when it was already over.

When the dust cleared, the room fell silent albeit a few sporadic coughs, as the hostages glanced around themselves in shock and gratitude and a thousand other emotions at the sudden realization that they were now free.

“Are you… Overwatch?” the mayor of London asked as they undid his bonds, flexing his wrists to restore some feeling to his hands. “What are you doing here?”

Mercy fixed him with a scathing look. “Saving you. Normally, people say ‘thank you.’”

He nodded, looking apologetic. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. Very much the opposite, in fact. I’m just surprised you came, since the Prime Minister undoubtedly made things very difficult.”

“Oh, he probably will,” Lena said, beginning to undo the bonds of another important statesperson, probably a member of the city council or something of the sort. “When he finds out. But for now, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

The mayor shrugged, then nodded once again as the agents around him continued to release prisoners. “I’ll admit, I’m starting to regret supporting the ban on Overwatch. When we get out of here, I’ll have my secretary find you a hotel to stay as long as you need before returning to your headquarters. Assuming she can find any hotels still intact. It’s the least I can do. Consider it part of my apology… and as thanks.”

Torbjörn grunted. “Thank us if we get out of here in one piece.”

Lena laughed tiredly. Her brain was all but fried, and she could hardly wait to get away from this place. She picked up the pace a bit, untying prisoner after prisoner as quickly as she could, her sudden eagerness to escape permeating her body.

How long had it been? Hours? Days? Months? She couldn’t even tell anymore, but it definitely felt like the latter. She was so distracted, she didn’t even realize when she reached a tall, kindly omnic, whose dirty, stained white robe marked him as a member of the Shambali.

She froze in place. Right before her, waiting to be untied, was one of her all-time heroes. Tekhartha Mondatta, the outspoken activist and spiritual guide, was right before her in the flesh. Or, in the circuitry, she supposed.

Numbly, she reached out, taking his bonds in hand, and proceeding to undo them, not speaking a word out of a combination of embarrassment and respect.

“Thank you, Tracer,” Mondatta said, and while his face was incapable of expressing emotion, the gratitude was more than obvious in his voice. As Lena blushed with pride, he flexed his metallic joints for the first time in days, ensuring that no coolant tubes or wiring were in any way damaged by the restrictive knots. “I, and the rest of the Shambali, are in your debt.”

If Lena had been blushing with pride before, at this point she was a tomato. If someone asked her later what she had said in response, she would’ve had to admit that she didn’t know. Some vaguely mumbled thanks or some other embarrassing reply, probably.

But being thanked by Mondatta: that was something she remembered in crystal clarity, and she knew she would for the rest of her life. She was practically dazed by their meeting, even when they finally met up with the advancing British forces an hour later, and was practically glowing at the validation and praise from an omnic that she only _read_ about. To be thanked by your hero… well, it really made Tracer feel rather like a heroine in her own right.

And the world really could use more heroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that concludes Lena's first mission, but they aren't quite going home yet... Overwatch still has some plans for them in London, and Emily will actually make a proper appearance. She'll be a pretty big part of the next chapter, so stay tuned for that :)
> 
> I'm still not sure about how this one turned out to be honest, and it's kinda short, but I didn't want to make you all wait any longer. But now that I'm on break, I'm excited to get back to a decent upload schedule again :)
> 
> Anyway, happy holidays to everyone, and I'll see you again next week, hopefully!


	14. Emily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Happy New Year! So break has been epic, and I've managed to write quite a lot, so consider this chapter an apology for how short the last one was (yikes, this one's over 8000 words - could I have made it two chapters? probably, but why do that when it's more fun this way?)
> 
> I really wanted to give Emily a proper introduction to the story, so I hope everyone likes her character! (As you probably noticed, I usually try not to include much in the way of people's speech patterns and accents in my writing, and I usually just write speech with (hopefully) correct grammar. I try to let the vocabulary used help people imagine the characters' accents themselves, since I don't always like reading those kinds of speech patterns because it can really break up the flow. I did do a bit of that with Emily, though, just to emphasize some of the differences I imagine between her accent and Lena's, since their vocabulary is a bit more similar than with Angela)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it!

_Three days later:_

Angela’s eyes opened a fraction, roused from a fitful sleep by an unfamiliar beeping. She lifted her arm from the warm body beside her and rolled over, fumbling for the snooze button until the incessant noise finally stopped, then returned to her previous position with a quiet grumble.

Beside her, Lena shifted a bit in her sleep, unconsciously tugging the blond woman even closer, their noses brushing against each other at the extreme proximity.

Angela’s eyes opened again at the sensation, somewhat more alert this time as she cast her gaze around the strange room, spending several moments feeling rather disoriented before eventually recognizing it as their London hotel room.

She sighed quietly as she stared at the ceiling, wishing once again that she had had the willpower three days ago to overcome her exhaustion and reject the mayor’s offer of this room. There were so many people left homeless by Null Sector’s attack that it felt… _wrong_ to be taking up this space in one of London’s hotels, almost all of which had been operating as makeshift refugee shelters for several days now. If only she had not given in, the hotel could have used this room for people far more disadvantaged than them.

It was a bit ironic, she thought, that they only needed this space because their team had been ordered to stay in London until emergency relief supplies arrived, so that they could help deliver those supplies to the population outside. Almost as if they could only help the victims by first getting in the way.

At least the UN’s shipment was actually arriving today, so she wouldn’t have to feel _too_ guilty about their presence anymore.

Although, she supposed she was being a little unrealistic. Their team really had needed a place to rest at the time, after all. Both she and Lena had been practically asleep on their feet, and she figured neither Reinhardt nor Torbjörn had been faring much better.

She dislodged her gaze from the ceiling, turning her head so that her eyes came to rest on the woman lying beside her. She raised fingers to her cheek for a tender caress, unable to help the smile that formed at the corners of her mouth at the sight of her adorable girlfriend, her face relaxed and peaceful, serene in unconsciousness in a way it almost never was when awake.

Not anymore, at least. She had Null Sector to thank for that.

Recently, instead of relaxed and untroubled, Lena’s smile was often tense and anxious once again, just as it had been for _months_ after being recovered from the ruinous aftereffects of the Slipstream incident. But as that time went further and further into the past, Angela had hoped that Lena’s anxieties and fears might have finally died down… until Null Sector’s actions tore her apart with all-new ones, their rampage of death and destruction and pain raining devastation on the city where she had lived for over nineteen years of her life.

Even a blind person would have been able to see the toll it had taken on her. By the time they had completed their mission in the Underworld, fighting their way back to the British military with a small army of hostages at their backs, Lena had been almost falling over from exhaustion. Between the stress of her first mission, the responsibility of guiding them above ground, and the fear of getting lost below ground, combined with the overuse of her abilities and a lack of sleep, Lena had barely made it to the hotel before collapsing on the bed fully clothed, going out like a light for more than twenty hours straight.

And, if Angela were being honest, she had been _beyond_ eager to join her, having only taken enough time to thank the mayor profusely for finding them a room, before entering and collapsing on the bed herself, barely managing to remove her Valkyrie suit before falling unconscious as well.

Things were much better for them now, having had several full-night’s rests to recover, and they were both mostly back to their normal selves, glad that the dark circles and slurred speech were finally things of the past.

Angela glanced again at the warm, cute brunette sharing her bed, her hair gloriously disheveled and sticking up in every direction, and she felt the smile still on her face turn a little goofy and lovesick.

It was surprising, really, that Lena had not woken up with the alarm. Normally, back at headquarters, she could be up and about in barely a heartbeat, only needing to yawn hugely once or twice before she was ready to face the day with a chipper attitude and a happy smile. Normally, _she_ was the one waking Angela up with a quiet giggle and a soft kiss, rather than the other way around.

But she hadn’t done so today, so for a few moments, Angela contemplated going back to sleep. She really was shockingly comfortable, enjoying the soothing feeling of the other woman’s breathing, her chest slowly rising and falling against her own. They were so close that Angela could feel each one of Lena’s soft exhales tickling against her lower lip.

With their legs intertwined, and with the gentle pressure of Lena’s hand resting against her hip, Angela was struck by an overwhelming feeling of intimacy, and began to run her fingertips down Lena’s side, fondly tracing the curves of her body.

Not for the first time, Angela was taken aback by Lena’s beauty. The brunette didn’t have to be wearing fancy clothing, or perfectly apply an entire cabinet of makeup, or have her hair tamed or gelled or straightened, or any of the other Hollywood tropes for the main character to finally notice the female love interest. It was just her, in nothing but a loose t-shirt and panties, her hair all fluffy and messed-up from sleep, and it was perfect.

Angela was so unbelievably lucky.

In her own eyes, she was hardly anything special: just a somewhat successful doctor with a particularly severe hero complex. And an equally severe caffeine addiction.

But Lena… She was… Incredible. A destitute orphan from King’s Row that managed, through sheer determination, to become one of the best pilots the world had ever seen. Then, even after her accident, she didn’t let that stop her, instead becoming the youngest-ever agent of Overwatch: a selective, influential, and world-renowned organization. All while making history as the world’s first time-traveler, and becoming an inspiration to young women all over the world as a result.

Sometimes, when Angela’s self-esteem was a bit low, she found herself wondering why such a woman would even choose her. Why would Lena want a woman like her when she had alternatives like Emily? A woman that Lena obviously found attractive, since they had already dated in the past. A woman that, once she had had a bit of sleep and time to recover from being held prisoner by an international terrorist organization, had turned out to be an exceptionally warm and friendly person, more than happy to listen and chat whenever someone needed an ear.

Okay, so Angela may have been _slightly_ jealous of Emily. She was willing to admit that much.

She knew she had no real reason to feel that way, but she just couldn’t help the way her heart stung a little whenever she saw that Emily had so easily gained her friends’ trust. Even people like Torbjörn, who was _known_ for being slow to trust and quick to anger, could now be found laughing and interacting with her over a drink like old friends.

Obviously, she knew _why_ they trusted her. The woman was hardly more than a civilian, but she had found within herself the courage to escape captivity, find the Overwatch strike team, and guide them back to the hostages. And even though the entire ordeal had left her understandably terrified, of course, that was just part of what made her so likable: she was so unashamed of herself, and she didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was afraid. She would just smile and laugh about it afterwards.

Angela had almost wanted to distrust her intentions, especially at first, since what were the chances that they would encounter a human down there at all, much less Lena’s ex-girlfriend? But it was hard to try and convince herself of that. Emily just seemed so open and genuine, much like Lena herself, that it was almost impossible to attribute any kind of ill intent to her actions.

So it wasn’t that she disliked Emily, she just wished people found _her_ as likable as they seemed to find the bubbly redhead.

Of course, Angela knew that her own personality wasn’t necessarily always the most welcoming. As much as she smiled and tried to be always friendly and approachable, it was just as often that people caught her at a bad time: grimacing at the paperwork in her hand, or chastising someone for doing something risky and bad for their health, or any of the hundred other frustrating things that made her seem short-tempered, frosty, and distant.

Maybe it was also because she was the base’s doctor, and people were made uncomfortable by the concept of friendly small talk with their primary care physician, but she still wished that she could be as instantly likable as Emily.

And, she realized, taking a moment to be completely honest with herself, the little pangs of jealousy she felt around Emily were not _just_ because she seemed to get along with everyone.

But seriously, how was she supposed to compete with Lena’s ex? Despite her young age, she was already employed at the office of _London’s mayor._ And with such a high-profile starting point, who knew how much further she might someday climb? Meanwhile, Angela was several years older, and what was she? A doctor with more insecurities than she had patients? Someone that couldn’t tell that her best friend, Amélie Lacroix, had been brainwashed by Talon agents until it was too late?

It didn’t help that Emily seemed to love flirting with Lena. Or, at least, that’s what it looked like, with all the casual touches and supposedly spontaneous compliments.

And it _certainly_ didn’t help that Emily was _seriously_ attractive. She had a beautiful face and a lovely smile, her expertly applied makeup perfectly accentuating her warm hazel eyes. Her hair, too, was almost annoyingly well-kept: long and smooth and thick and healthy, running down almost to her waist in glorious red waves.

Between that and her professional business attire, usually consisting of a thigh-length black skirt and a white button-down blouse, Angela couldn’t help but feel a little inadequate in her simple blue combat medic uniform. Especially since Emily seemed to always keep the top few buttons of her shirt tastefully undone, showing off just a hint of that flawless, freckled cleavage. To Angela, it was just another frustrating reminder of her perfect hourglass figure.

If _she_ found Emily attractive, why would Lena ever want to give up such a funny, successful, and sexy woman for her?

In that moment, she couldn’t think of a good reason, until another soft puff of exhaled breath tickled her lips, mercifully pulling her away from that destructive train of thought. Angela chastised herself for her moment of jealousy, reminding herself that she was being unreasonable. After all, Lena was in bed right now with _her,_ not Emily, as that small jealous part of her brain made sure to remind her, its annoying little voice sounding embarrassingly smug about that fact.

She shook herself mentally, pushing away the little green-eyed monster that had briefly reared its ugly head. Angela was _not_ a jealous person. She had never seen the point. All it did was make someone so possessive and worried and nervous that it just pushed people away, sometimes even pushing away the very person they wanted so desperately to keep.

Still, when she was struck by a sudden desire to kiss Lena’s enticing lips, which had been hovering just beyond the reach of her own for several minutes now, she worried that it was the jealous part of her mind again, desperate for some way to remind Lena why she should choose _her._

But she shook herself free of that idea as well. She had just been so lost in her thoughts, that she never paid proper attention to the other woman’s alluring closeness.

Her lips just looked so… perfect right there, slightly parted as she breathed, tempting and full as if waiting to be kissed. So Angela closed the minuscule distance, brushing her own lips gently against Lena’s, letting the other woman awaken to their touch.

The brunette stirred, slowly regaining consciousness at the pleasurable sensation. Angela felt the moment where Lena’s lips came alive, starting to return the kiss for a few moments before they curled into a smile.

Angela pulled back, watching as Lena’s eyes opened, drowsy and soft as the rising sun began to light up the sky outside in dazzling orange. “Morning, love,” she mumbled as a greeting to the blonde woman in her bed, inching forward to claim her lips once again. Her voice was still thick with sleep, but the hand resting on Angela’s waist became a bit more confident in its position as she pulled the taller woman a bit closer to herself and let out a contented sigh. “Sleep well?”

“Mmhmm,” Angela replied, breaking contact with Lena’s lips for a few moments, so that she could plant a few kisses on her cheek, followed by an affectionate peck right to the tip of her nose, before finally relaxing once again beside Lena. Their eyes locked together, and Angela felt that little knot of jealousy from earlier retreat even farther from her mind.

Lena gave her a lopsided grin, then pushed herself up, rolling on top of Angela so she could straddle her, a hand on either side of her head for support.

“I missed you, Angie,” Lena said, resting a bit more of her body weight on top of the doctor so she could close the distance between them once again, filling the doctor’s entire field of view with her beautiful brown eyes. “We haven’t had much time to ourselves since this whole mess started.”

Angela returned Lena’s smile with one of her own, wrapping her arms around the other woman’s back as she did so. “I missed you too. At least we get to share a room, though.”

“Yeah,” Lena muttered, then shifted her weight once again so she could free her hand, using it to gently caress Angela’s face. “But don’t think for a minute that just ‘cause we’re sharing a hotel room that this counts as a vacation. Whenever we get some time off, I’m still taking you on a proper trip, okay?”

“Hmm,” Angela replied, her eyes sliding down to Lena’s tempting lips, and remaining there for several moments before returning upwards. “Where did you have in mind?”

Lena’s fingers played with a strand of blonde hair. “What would you prefer, love? At first, I was thinking a nice beach, or perhaps the mountains. But I also seem to recall promising that you could take me to one of your medical technology exhibitions if you want. I never go back on a promise, so we could do something like that if you’d rather… Or both. We could do both.”

Angela giggled, rather surprised that Lena even _remembered_ that conversation from so long ago. She reached up for her, cupping her face with both hands. “You’re so perfect,” she muttered, her heart warm and full at the sight of the smiling woman before her. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“What _didn’t_ you do? You say I’m perfect, but have you looked in the mirror recently?”

The doctor blushed brightly and looked down, not meeting Lena’s eyes. “I’m not _that_ special. I’m sure Emily…” she began, but was quickly cut off by a brief but fierce kiss, which left both of them a little breathless.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous, love,” Lena said, letting out a small chuckle. “You know you don’t have to worry, though. There was never even a competition.”

There was no way not to believe those eyes. Kind and loving, a color somewhere between deep honey and molten chocolate, they gazed into hers, reassuring her that _she_ was the one that had captured Lena’s heart.

Still, Angela had to ask. “Why?” she inquired, slightly winded under that passionate gaze. “I’m nowhere near as hot as she is…”

Lena’s eyebrows rose in disbelief, then she kissed her on the forehead. “That, love, is the biggest load of rubbish I’ve ever heard. And even if it were true, which it’s not, why would it even matter? I’m dating you because I love you, not just because you’re attractive. Even though you are definitely the hottest woman I’ve ever met, with absolutely no contest, just saying.”

Angela blushed again. “You think so?”

The pilot giggled. “What’s with you, all shy and blushing today? Who _wouldn’t_ find you attractive? I almost had to restart my brain the first time we met.”

A massive smile crossed Angela’s face, her entire body almost tingling with a warm, comfortable feeling at the sincerity behind the other woman’s words. Lacking the correct words to reply, she pulled Lena into a fervent kiss, her tongue demanding entry, which was given with hardly a pause.

Lena was lying atop her girlfriend, now using her elbows to support herself so she could cup Angela’s cheeks, keeping their mouths locked together. A small, involuntary moan escaped the blonde’s lips when Lena’s hips shifted slightly, causing both women to separate just enough for some oxygen, and so they could speak against each other’s kiss-swollen lips.

“What…” the brunette began, somewhat breathlessly. “What brought this on, Angela? I don’t want you _ever_ feeling like you’re not good enough.”

Angela shrugged, not remembering exactly what had triggered this line of thought, but when Lena pulled back a bit farther so she could look her in the eyes, she said the first thing that came to mind. “Emily has really nice boobs,” she muttered.

Lena laughed, the sound loud and clear and vibrant in the small room. A few moments later, Angela joined in, and as the tension between them broke, both women were quickly consumed by a fit of giggles at her spontaneous observation. The brunette rolled a bit in her laughter, tumbling off of Angela’s body and landing heavily on the bed beside her, prompting even more mirth from the two women.

God, how long _had_ it been since they had simply laughed like that? Not a tense little chuckle or anything of that sort. But real, proper _laughter._

“She does,” Lena giggled, wiping a tear from her eye as her amusement slowly subsided. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or offended that that was the first thing you thought of while making out with _me,_ but I’m totally telling her that you think so.”

Angela crossed her arms, feigning indignation and petulance. “No way _you’re_ telling her. As if she needed another reason to flirt with you.”

Lena’s eyes twinkled as she regarded Angela with a mischievous smirk. “She’ll flirt with pretty much anyone. If I’m being honest, I’m surprised she hasn’t already been chatting you up too. So feel free to tell her yourself, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. She’s relentless.”

“Might be my fault,” Angela said with a faint blush that betrayed her embarrassment. “I’ve been keeping my distance a bit.”

“More my fault than yours,” the Brit replied with a shake of her head. “I’ve learned to ignore it, but I should’ve told you before how she’s an incessant flirt. I understand why you got jealous, love.”

Angela shrugged again, or at least, the closest she could get to a shrug while lying on her side. “Still, I should at least be making an effort. She’s your best friend, after all, so I’m a pretty bad girlfriend if I don’t at least try to get along with her.”

Lena inched closer on the bed, glancing down at Angela’s lips. “Thanks, love. I really appreci…” she began, starting to lean in for a kiss, but just before she could finish expressing her thanks, both women jumped as the sound of the blaring alarm clock returned, with all of its predictably impeccable timing.

“Ow,” Lena muttered, rubbing her nose where she had bumped it, _hard,_ into Angela’s cheekbone. “Bloody hell.”

The doctor giggled, kissing the brunette’s forehead before rolling onto her other side to make sure she actually turned the alarm _off_ this time, instead of merely pressing ‘snooze.’

“I guess that’s our cue to get going then, yeah?” Lena asked, pushing herself out of the bed, then letting out a soft groan as she stretched.

“I suppose so,” Angela replied, knowing the other woman was right, even if she was a little disappointed that their morning had to end so soon. She slipped out of bed and stretched as well, chuckling as she caught the bra that was thrown at her.

She really did need to give Emily a chance, she thought as she walked into the bathroom and flicked on the light. A proper one. No silly jealousy or anything getting in the way.

Maybe while they distributed the aid packages that were arriving today? Or beforehand, while everything was being set up? With Emily involved at the mayor’s office, she would probably be there, so it would be the perfect opportunity.

And maybe, if she were very lucky, Emily might even forgive her for lending her the cold shoulder for more than three days.

* * *

A few hours later, however, and Angela wasn’t quite so sure about her plan anymore.

It wasn’t that she had given up on meeting Emily, but the mood in which she found herself right now was hardly conducive to a friendly meeting.

Emily had waited days, surely a few more hours wouldn’t hurt too much.

If she had to describe her feelings at that moment, Angela would have to say _disappointment._ With just a touch of anger. In retrospect, she really should have guessed something like this would happen, just to save herself some of the frustration. She should have known Overwatch would turn this into a publicity stunt, but she had no power to change it, so all she had left was to give people a healthy glare whenever they asked for her help with something.

 _This_ was the problem with Overwatch, she thought, looking around at the people working to make the event possible.

Not the part where they _gave_ aid, of course. The doctor loved doing that. Everything about it, from the looks of gratitude on people’s faces, to the feeling of warmth that grew within her at the knowledge that she was helping them. The knowledge that she was doing the right thing.

The _problem_ was the part where they made everything a damn advertisement. Instead of just doing the right thing _because_ it was right, they always had to turn it into propaganda.

_Look at us! We’re doing the right thing! See? See?! Give us screen time and money and medals because we’re so amazing! Please ignore all the shit Blackwatch has done, and all the recent defections to Talon, and all the investigations still being conducted, and especially those funds that keep going missing from right under the accountants’ noses! Keep supporting us because of this one good thing we’re doing! And make sure to reelect Director Petras for his contributions to our glorious and benevolent organization!_

That’s what the whole thing felt like, from the giant Overwatch logo that would stand behind them, to the film crews being set up, to the way they were all expected to wear full gear and uniforms, just to advertise as much as possible. To make sure everyone knew that it was _Overwatch_ that saved London, and that it was _Overwatch_ that was bringing them food and supplies and medicine.

It felt more like a political campaign than actual emergency aid, currying favor with the people right before the UN started to look for a replacement director. _Don’t do that, because look how much the people love us!_

It all made her feel a little sick. Especially since it was Overwatch’s director himself that had been one of the main obstacles _preventing_ them from getting involved in the first place. The successful eviction of Null Sector from London wasn’t even Overwatch’s achievement, and it _especially_ wasn’t his, no matter how much he tried to take credit for it. The entire mission was _Lena’s_ idea. It was _Lena_ who convinced Commander Morrison to disregard the director’s orders and send the strike team to step in. It was _Lena_ that guided them through London, helping the team fight off the swarms of omnics that tried to assail them. And it was _Lena_ that saved them from near-certain destruction, killing _four_ Bastion units _by herself._

It wasn’t Director Petras, with his fake smile and his empty words. The man was a pandering coward, with enough of a superiority complex that he was still probably reprimanding Commander Morrison for going against his orders, right before going before the UN and bragging about what a great job he was doing, no doubt citing the success of said mission repeatedly.

Angela needed a breath of fresh air.

She wasn’t exactly _angry,_ not really. She was just… sad. Sad that this once-great organization had fallen so far. Sad that it had so clearly lived past its prime, and was now merely clawing desperately at whatever life it had left.

She stepped away from the small crowd, leaning on the railing so she could look out at the River Thames.

If she were being honest, it didn’t help much. _Anywhere_ was too close to this ridiculous display of hypocrisy. It felt like they were exploiting people’s suffering for a quick buck. Or a vote. 

Still, she supposed she was being unfair. All this fanfare was, indirectly, Lena’s chance to get a bit of appreciation for the good she had done. She knew Lena didn’t necessarily crave fame, but it was still nice to see the news crews hanging off her girlfriend’s every word in interviews. After all, it was her lover’s chance to get the recognition she deserved for comprehensively saving hundreds, if not thousands of lives, so _of course_ Angela was going to support it every step of the way.

A hand on her arm dragged her out of her thoughts, and she glanced over, seeing Lena looking a little bewildered at the spectacle that was being arranged. “This is all a bit pretentious, isn’t it?” the brunette asked, fiddling a little with one of the straps of her chronal accelerator when her eyes landed on where some of the assistants were setting up what could only be a makeshift stage.

The blonde sighed and shook her head, looking out at the opposite shore once again. “It’s all a damn theater. We’re only here so the things you did will make the director look good.”

Lena shuffled her feet, the very picture of adorable modesty as she gave a small shrug. “I didn’t really do anything special. ‘Sides, it wasn’t just me. You lot did most of the work,” she said, gesturing vaguely at Mercy, as well as to where Torbjörn and Reinhardt could be seen, both deep in conversation with an important-looking person.

“Of course we _helped,_ Lena. That’s not the point. This whole mission was basically your idea, so if anyone should be getting commendations and praise from the UN, it’s you, not the idiot director.”

Lena let out a sigh of her own, and Angela straightened from her relaxed position, turning to face her. “Thanks, I guess. I just… wasn’t really trying to get famous, you know? I only wanted to help people, and everyone’s treating it like this big deal.”

Feeling her face break into a smile, Angela moved a bit closer so she could wrap an arm around her shoulders. “You did a wonderful thing, Lena.” Seeing the intake of breath, the doctor anticipated her protests, and cut her off before she could speak with a finger against her lips. “I know, I know, ‘the rest of the team did too,’ right? But the fact is, you made it happen. And with all the bad that’s happening in the world right now, _of course_ everyone wants a picture of the woman that brought them some good news.”

She had hoped Lena would just accept it, but she should have known the other woman was too selfless for that. Instead, she was already shaking her head. “I’m no hero, love. Not like you or Captain Amari or Reinhardt.”

Angela swore she felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth at the brunette’s endearing modesty. Somehow, even just being herself, Lena always managed to raise her spirits, and today was no different. It was uncanny how good she was at putting a smile on Angela’s face, no matter the mood.

Suddenly remembering their earlier conversation, the blonde chuckled quietly. “Now who’s being uncharacteristically shy?” she countered, receiving a light punch to her arm for her trouble.

“It’s not my fault, love!” Lena said with a giggle. “It’s like they’re setting up a concert over there! I’m half worried they’re gonna end up asking me to sing or something.”

“Oh, God,” Angela groaned at the memory of the last time someone dragged her out to a karaoke night. “Can you imagine an Overwatch band?” she shuddered. “Still, better you than me. It would be cruel to subject people to my singing.”

Lena swatted her arm again. “I’ll have you know I’m not _that_ bad. I just don’t practice much ‘cause my voice doesn’t really work for the music I like.”

“Yeah, your voice is way too cute for punk,” the blonde replied with a smirk.

“You don’t have to rub it in! And I don’t _just_ listen to punk, you know.”

Angela hummed. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Wanker,” Lena muttered, chuckling to herself. “I swear, you’re as bad as Emily sometimes.”

“Well, I should hope so,” she replied, feigning indignance. “I’m your girlfriend, after all, so it’s in my job description to be both the hottest and most irritating pain in the neck you’ll ever know.”

The pilot shook her head, still laughing. “Usually, the being a nuisance part is the best friend’s job. My girlfriend is supposed to kiss me afterwards to make me feel better.”

Angela smirked again. “Where’s the fun in that? Instead, I can be a massive pain in the neck, then I can _also_ kiss it all better. It’s a much better arrangement.”

Lena huffed, doing her best to look offended but failing miserably due to the smile on her face. “You know, after we get back to headquarters, I _was_ planning to ask Emily to teach me the guitar over video call, but since my girlfriend seems to have _no faith_ in me, maybe I _won’t_ be playing her any beautiful music.”

Well, Angela certainly hadn’t been expecting that. Caught off-guard, she didn’t exactly have a witty retort at the ready, so she glanced off into the crowd in the distance, a light blush adorning her features at the thought of her girlfriend serenading her with an acoustic guitar.

It was odd that at that moment, just as they mentioned her, that Angela would notice the familiar head of red hair, in the midst of dragging a chair into a better position, then standing back with a satisfied grin. Had she been there the whole time, and Angela only noticed her now that she was on her mind? Or was Emily just one of those people with the gift of unconsciously perfect timing, happening to appear whenever someone said her name?

Either way, that woman in the crowd was definitely Emily, who was now giving a thumbs-up to someone outside her line of sight. For a few moments, Angela considered calling out to her. That way, she could meet her, and finally fulfill the promise she made to herself.

But as it turned out, she didn’t even have to. As if sensing the eyes on her, Emily turned, her eyebrows raised for a few moments before she recognized the two women standing by the river. Just as Lena turned around to look, she smirked and began to approach, throwing a bit more saunter into her step than was strictly necessary as she closed the distance with her old friend.

_Well, here goes nothing._

“Lena!” Emily said with a grin, pulling her into a quick hug. “Fancy seein’ you here.”

“Hi, Emily,” the brunette replied.

The redhead turned, giving Angela an especially thorough once-over before her eyes returned to the blonde woman’s face. She extended her hand, still smiling brightly. “And you must be Angela! Lena’s told me loads about you. It’s nice to have a chance to meet you proper.”

Angela smiled warmly, shaking the offered hand. “Likewise. Our first meeting had… less than ideal circumstances.”

Emily chuckled. “You can say that again. Far from the best first impression I could’ve left on a beautiful woman.”

Seeing Lena’s amused eyeroll, and remembering what she had told her earlier about Emily’s propensity toward flirting, Angela decided to go along with it. “On the contrary,” she said, smirking a bit at the attractive redhead. “Helping recover a bunch of hostages, as well as save London from a hostile takeover? Certainly left a good impression on me.”

“I’m glad. I do aim to please,” Emily said with a winning smile. “So, anyway, what’re two knockouts like you doin’ all by yourselves way over here? I imagine you weren’t just waitin’ for me to stop by so you could chat me up. Though if you were, I can’t say I’d mind.”

Despite any remaining preconceptions she might have had about meeting the dreaded ex-girlfriend, Angela felt herself returning the other woman’s genuine smile, her doubts vanishing like fog in the morning sun. Lena was right, Emily was pretty fun to talk to. “Well, I was having a conversation with Lena, and I think you might actually be the perfect person to give us a bit of input.”

“Ooh,” Emily replied, her eyes twinkling excitedly. “What were you talkin’ about?” She flashed a wink. “Me, I hope.”

Lena scoffed good-naturedly. “You wish.”

“You wound me, Lena,” the redhead gasped, her face the very picture of faked offence. “Forgettin’ about your ex so easily?”

The brunette shook her head, laughing at her antics. “I wouldn’t call it forgetting. Just trying not to stoke her vanity any more. God knows her head is big enough already.”

Emily shrugged, then smirked once more at Angela. “What can I say? Girls love confidence.” She winked again in the blonde woman’s direction, then slid between her and Lena, draping an arm around both of their necks. “So anyway, if you weren’t chattin’ about yours truly, what _were_ you talkin’ about?”

Angela picked up Emily’s arm and lifted it back over her head with a chuckle. “Well, we were just having a bit of a discussion about how all this,” she gestured at the Overwatch regalia in the distance. “Feels like a bit of a circus.”

“Cor, I’m glad I’m not the only one,” Emily replied gratefully. “Couldn’t help but feel this was all a bit… much… for ‘disaster relief.’ Kind of in the name why that’s a bad idea, innit? Wouldn’t think an emergency’d leave a whole lotta time for settin’ up a sound stage and passin’ out souvenirs.”

The doctor nodded. _“I_ still think that if anyone’s going to be getting this kind of praise, it should be Lena. She made this whole mission possible, you know.”

Lena turned to Angela, looking betrayed. “Not this again, love!” she protested, but Angela wasn’t having that.

Instead, she smirked. “Shh… she’s your best friend, she deserves to know. Especially since I apparently can’t convince you that you did anything that was worth that praise.”

Emily made a big show of her mock-exasperation. “Lena’s bein’ her noble self again, is she? ‘I wanna help people, is that so weird?’ and all her usual rubbish?”

Angela nodded, giggling at the bright red color on Lena’s cheeks.

Emily’s smirk just widened. “Well if you’re askin’, ‘course I’m proud of her too. I think even if she’s bein’ all annoyin’ and selfless like normal, she still deserves all the admiration and love in the world, ‘cause she’s just a really, properly good person, even if she’s too thick to see it. But I’m not really the right person to ask, am I?”

The doctor furrowed her brow. “Why not?”

“Considerin’ I’m the only other person here that’s slept with her before? Don’t really think either of us can rightly say we’ve an unbiased opinion, now can we?”

“Oi!” Lena exclaimed with mock indignation. “How do you know I’ve slept with Angela before?”

Emily turned her gaze on Lena, looking smug at her deduction as she counted off reasons on her fingers. “One, you called me the day after that party…”

“But that wasn’t when we… I didn’t say what we d…”

“You didn’t have to,” Emily interrupted, a shit-eating grin on her face. “I’ve known you for a long time, Lena, give me a little credit for recognizin’ your expressions. And really bloody turned on’s always been one of my favorites. So when you told me you two finally got together, I figured it was only a matter of time.”

Angela raised an eyebrow at that… rather accurate deduction. They hadn’t exactly had much time together before the Slipstream incident, but it had been filled with so many passionate make-out sessions, that it really was hardly shocking that they eventually ended up sleeping together. It may have been the very last night, but it still happened.

However, that didn’t seem to be all, and she had to admit, she was somewhat curious what else led to Emily’s assumption. “What else?” she asked.

Emily turned to her and winked. “Well, two is that I finally met you. There’s no way she’s been datin’ someone as hot as you for this long without things gettin’ spicy every now and then. I know I wouldn’t be able to resist.”

That earned her a light smack from Lena. “Stop trying to get into my girlfriend’s pants, love.”

“Well, it’s hardly my fault!” she protested. “They’re nice pants! On both of you. Seriously, no one tell you how hot you look in those uniforms?”

“Hmm,” Lena muttered. “I’ll let it pass, only because I can’t deny it. You do look rather stunning, Angie.”

Angela turned to face the shorter woman more directly, feeling a light blush color her cheeks as she met Lena’s meaningful gaze through her lashes. “You think so?”

Lena took a half step forward, closing some of the distance between herself and the blonde as she took her hand in her own. “It wouldn’t matter what you were wearing, you’d still take my breath away.”

Now, Angela could _really_ feel how pink her cheeks were. “You do too,” she replied quietly.

She considered leaning in for a kiss, but the moment was interrupted by the sound of a simulated camera shutter. She and Lena turned on the spot, watching as a grinning Emily lowered her phone.

Seeing from the two blushing faces pointed in her direction that she had caught their attention, the redhead broke her silence. “Anyone told you that you two are almost sickeningly cute? I just _had_ to take a picture. I mean, the looks on your faces, and you call her _Angie?_ Cor, that’s just so… so… adorable! How can anyone manage to work with you without dyin’ from cuteness overload?”

Lena shrugged, recovering quickly from her slight embarrassment and throwing a smirk in Emily’s direction. “We are pretty cute, aren’t we? Must be practice, I guess. Winston’s got to be used to us by now, and as for Torbjörn and Reinhardt, Torbjörn’s too grumpy to care, and Reinhardt knows he can’t really say much about us when he’s just as bad with Ana.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Angela chuckled. “Just because he knows it doesn’t mean he’ll admit it.”

“That’s what I love about them, though!” Lena exclaimed, her eyes twinkling happily. “They’re like the awesome parents I never knew I had!”

Emily giggled. “Lena, if Reinhardt was your dad, you’d be at least like… half a meter taller.”

The other two laughed heartily in acknowledgement of her point, sending a few affectionate glances at the massive German man who was almost like a father to so many Overwatch agents.

Angela sighed. “I’ll admit, I know I’m not _tall,_ but I feel _so short_ when he walks into the room.”

“Oi, how do you think I feel?” Lena said, still laughing. “I’m eight centimeters shorter than you!”

Emily grinned, gesturing at the brunette’s shoes, then to the pumps on her own feet. “That’s what heels are for, Lena.”

Lena gave her friend a look of shock, almost bordering on horror. “Yeah, right, love. The day I wear those bloody death traps is the day hell freezes over. Do you _want_ me to break my ankles?”

The redhead shook her head, doing a little twirl to show them off. “No, but they really aren’t so bad once you get used to ‘em.”

 _“Fuck_ no,” Lena said, shivering a bit. “That’s _so_ not me.”

Angela chuckled, not above joining in on teasing her girlfriend. “Afraid it’ll ruin your punk image?” she asked.

The pilot scoffed, running a hand through her hair, which, unfortunately for her, only made it stand up more. “I’m not _that_ punk! Not anymore!”

“Hmm. I’m not so sure. Short spiky hair, check. Used to dye it blue, check. Helix piercings, check. Ex-graffiti artist, check. Right taste in music, check. Leather jackets, check. I think we may be onto something,” Angela giggled as she counted off on her fingers. Then, her curiosity got the better of her, so she had to ask. “And what do you mean, ‘not anymore’?”

Lena’s cheeks went pink. “Can we forget I ever said that?”

Emily glanced between her and Angela for a few moments, then burst out in uproarious laughter. “Oh my God, Lena! You never told her?!”

“It… never came up?” replied the brunette, still blushing brightly.

“Lena, you told her you used to spray-paint buildings _illegally,_ but you never told her about your pink undercut?”

Lena groaned, but that only made Angela more curious. “She dyed it pink too?” she asked, which only made Emily laugh harder.

“If you think she’s punk now, blondie, you should’ve seen her when she was 14! It was the whole works! Pink hair buzzed on the side, skulls everywhere, torn leggings, studded leather jacket. I mean it was pretty hot, but it was very… extra.”

Angela stared at Lena, trying to picture what Emily was describing. “No way,” she said.

“Way. I’m pretty sure the only reason she never got any tattoos was ‘cause she wasn’t old enough to sign herself off. I didn’t really know her then, just saw her ‘round the school, but I’m glad she grew out of it eventually. Made it a lot easier to explain to my parents when we finally started datin’. They were surprised enough to find out their daughter liked girls, so a shy bluenette in a hoodie was a lot easier to explain than a pink-haired rock star wannabe.”

Lena glared at them. “I hate you both.”

Angela laughed brightly, unable to stop herself from wrapping her arms around her girlfriend, simultaneously amused and empathetic towards the woman who was looking more tomato than human at this point. Lena responded in turn, burying her face in Angela’s blue jacket.

“Can I join?” Emily asked with her arms open, and when both women nodded, she joined in their hug, sandwiching Lena between herself and Angela. “You know I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your girlfriend, Lena. Well, not too much at least.”

“I know,” Lena muttered, trying to smother the quiet laughter in her voice using Angela’s chest. “And it _was_ pretty funny, even if I’m not all that proud of it.”

“Good,” Emily replied. “Group hugs are way better when everyone’s laughin’.”

They probably would’ve stayed there a bit longer, but all of a sudden, Angela felt the soft mass pressed against her forearm vibrate. She had thought it was Emily’s breast, but that obviously wasn’t the case.

Or it was, she realized, when Emily pulled away from the hug and retrieved her phone from her bra, where she must have stored it while Angela and Lena were looking elsewhere. Emily glanced down at the screen, quickly reading the text message, then returned the phone to its old position once again, sliding it back into the space between her breasts.

Lena let out a giggle. “I see your boobs are still your favorite pocket, love.”

Emily looked indignant. “Of course. Purses are just askin’ to get stolen, and skirts,” she gestured at her pleated black bottoms. “Don’t usually have pockets.”

The brunette shrugged. “That’s why I wear trousers. Even if the pockets are rubbish, at least they exist.”

Her ex scoffed. “Pfft. You wear trousers ‘cause you’re gay as fuck, Lena.”

“True, but that’s not _why_ I wear trousers though,” Lena protested. “I just, you know, like ‘em. ‘Sides, it’s way easier to get out your wallet or phone without everyone staring ‘cause you’ve been messing with your boobs.”

Emily smirked, winking as she pushed out her chest a bit. “You aren’t wrong. I mean, it got two beautiful women starin’ at my tits right now, but I really don’t see how that’s a bad thing.”

“You wish,” said Lena, closely followed by an amused scoff from Angela.

The redhead laughed. “Okay, maybe not starin’, but at least it got you to glance, so I’ll take it. I mean, be a bit insultin’ if I had a chat with two lesbians that didn’t at least check me out a little bit. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been doin’ the same.”

Lena facepalmed, and Angela giggled at the redhead’s abrupt reversion to her normal flirty self.

“Anyway,” Emily continued, practically cackling. “As much as I’m enjoyin’ this chat with you lovelies, that text was from my boss. More paperwork to file, and who am I to reject the call of my one true love?” She made a big show of swooning over an imaginary file cabinet.

She stood up, still grinning hugely, and held out her arms. “Was nice meetin’ you, Angela.”

“You too, Emily,” the blonde replied, gladly accepting the hug.

“Treat Lena well, yeah? Just ‘cause we don’t live in the same country doesn’t mean I won’t make you regret it if you hurt her.”

“Of course,” the doctor replied with a smile.

“Good,” Emily said, then winked and blew her a kiss. “Keep in touch, hot stuff.”

Grinning at the blonde’s responding chuckle, she turned to Tracer. “She seems like good people, Lena. You chose a good one.”

“Thanks, love,” the brunette replied.

“I mean it, I want an invitation to the marriage, okay?” At that, both women blushed deeply, and Emily’s grin widened. “I’m off then. Try not to have too much fun without me, yeah?”

Lena nodded, pulling her best friend into a hug. “I’m gonna miss you, love.”

“Miss you too, sexy.”

They waved their goodbyes, and the two Overwatch agents watched as Emily walked away, smiling to themselves as the sound of her shoes receded into the distance.

Eventually, Lena broke the silence. “So, what did you think of her?”

Angela smiled, taking Lena’s hand in her own and swinging it as they began to walk back towards the event. “I like her. She’s fun. A bit much sometimes, but fun.”

Lena sighed happily. “I’m glad. I was worried you two would hate each other.”

“Definitely not,” Angela replied. “Only if she _actually_ tried to steal you from me, then I might. I’m pleased to have met her.”

Lena gave her an calculating gaze, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “I dunno, love. She was just as interested in you as me, maybe I’m the one who should be worried, huh?”

Angela giggled, and stopped them so she could pull Lena into a kiss. “I wouldn’t worry about a thing,” she said, just before their lips met. Happiness fluttered in the doctor’s heart, and even when it began to lightly drizzle, its cold dampness a keen reminder of the British weather, it didn’t put any sort of damper on her mood. “Now, let’s go help some people, sound good?”

“Sounds good,” replied Lena, and they turned once more towards the event.

But this time, Angela was smiling.

Because no matter what this performance represented, there were people out there that could still use their help, and between herself and Lena, they might just be able to do something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, I think I'm pretty happy with the way this one turned out actually, so let me know what you thought!
> 
> In other news, I continue on my escapade to make most of the main skins for these two characters part of canon, because why not? :)
> 
> And I hope you all like Emily! I always pictured her mostly as she appears here, not ashamed at all and really confident. It made it a bit hard to write her interactions, but I think I'm getting a bit better at it. I'm just not quite used to writing characters that flirt with multiple other characters at the same time.
> 
> And don't worry, Emily won't be getting in the way of Lena and Angela, nor will this be turning into a threesome (I may write an unrelated one-shot once I'm done with this series, but I'm not sure yet - if there's interest, I probably will).
> 
> Anyway, until the next time! And thank you all for reading!


	15. Bad Timing (slightly NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter:  
> Nothing explicit, but there is a pretty intense makeout scene between Lena and Angela, as well as a lot of flirting and a few sexual innuendos in this chapter. Just a heads up.

_The same day, at Overwatch Headquarters:_

Commander Morrison sighed, squinting as he scanned over the document on his desk for what felt like the hundredth time.

The light in the office was too dim, he knew that. Ana would have his head if she found out he was trying to do work like this. “Ruining your eyes,” she would say, then flick on the overhead lights despite all protests. Right after flicking him in the forehead for being irresponsible.

But the fact was, he hated that fluorescent glow. It was too bright, too harsh for reading. It always made his eyes sting and left him with a migraine that just _wouldn’t go away._ He was used to the dimmer, homier feeling of the lamp on his desk, its yellow light much more comfortable and welcoming, even if it was far too faint to be used on its own.

He blinked again. If he was reading it correctly, this report would be needing his attention soon. Ecopoint Antarctica had missed its check-in date _again;_ it had now gone nearly a year without any form of contact. Once he had some spare manpower, he should probably consider sending a team down there to see what was wrong.

 _Or,_ he thought grimly, _to recover the bodies._

He rummaged in his desk, feeling for where he might find a slip of paper so he could make a note to himself. But he froze, hand still halfway into his desk drawer when he felt the back of his neck prickle, a telltale sign someone else was in the room.

He whipped around, eyes probing the darkness for the intruder, cursing himself for leaving his gun in his bedside table. He was about to reach for his lamp, knowing that _some kind_ of weapon would be better than nothing, when a deep, gravelly voice spoke a single word.

“Jack.”

He slumped in relief, his hands relaxing their death-grip on the arms of his chair as he felt the tension all but pour out of him on recognizing the voice. The figure stepped from the corner of the room, dressed all in black, the smug smirk on his scarred, battered face only revealed after entering the area lit by the dim lamp. “Jesus fucking Christ, Gabe,” Morrison mumbled, taking a drink from the cup on his desk in a vague attempt to calm his pounding heart. “Stop sneaking up on me like that. One of these days, you’re gonna get yourself shot.”

The other man smiled, wolflike. “Don’t plan on stopping. Too much fun to see you shit your pants every damn time.”

Morrison sighed, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “What do you want?”

Reyes looked a little hurt, or at least, as much as the old wounds and damage to his face would allow. “I can’t just be visiting you ‘cause I want to?” he asked. It was hard to tell if he was mocking or not, but Jack told himself that he didn’t really care either way.

Instead, Overwatch’s commander shook his head, trying not to grate his teeth together in anger as he replied. “You don’t get to play wounded, Reyes. If you really cared, you’d do something to fucking show it every once in a while. I know you wouldn’t come here unless you want something. Not anymore. So tell me what you want.”

Gabriel shrugged, then ambled over to the desk, supporting himself with his arms as he leaned heavily against it. “Fine, you’re right. I wanna know what the fuck we’re still doing in London.”

“There’s no ‘we.’ Lieutenant Wilhelm, Chief Engineer Lindholm, and Agents Mercy and Tracer are still in London because that’s what the director ordered. The UN’s sending Britain aid, so can _you_ think of anyone better suited to be there for that than the strike team that saved them in the first place?”

“Cut the shit, Jack. We’re just letting that… _politician…_ ” he spat the word out as if the very concept pained him. “Order us around like his own personal slaves. He doesn’t care about those people anyway, he just wants this to look good for his reelection campaign.”

“Probably, but it really doesn’t matter _why he_ wants to do it, Gabriel. It’s still the right thing to do.”

“Oh, right,” came the sarcastic reply. “I forgot how much you love that precious statue of you. Can’t have the director getting mad at his perfect little minion, now can we? He might get it taken down, and then what?”

Jack stood, slamming his hands down on the desk. “And what would you have me do?! Tell them to leave? Announce that Overwatch will _not_ be helping with an international relief effort, just because we’re _too… damn… petty?!”_

“Fuck it! Why not?” Gabriel shouted, glaring at Jack furiously. “I don’t even know why we’re helping the British at all, honestly! They were all too happy to treat us like shit before! Their ambassadors talked all the time about what a waste of money and resources Overwatch is, and how ‘most countries are perfectly capable of handling their own problems, thank you very much.’ But now, when they _couldn’t_ just handle their ‘little omnic problem’ themselves, we’ve already done _way_ more than we should have just by saving their punk asses from their own stupid mistakes in the first place! If you say you don’t need us, you don’t need us. We shouldn’t be breaking our fucking backs to help you!”

“That’s cold, Gabe, even for you. They need our help, and they _did_ publicly thank us, and promise to restore their support to the program. They’re even thinking about knighting the agents of the strike team.”

The black-clad man rolled his eyes. “Whoop dee fucking doo. But it’s too damn late. They should’ve thought about something like this _before_ their idiot ‘omnic policies’ left them with a riot on their hands.”

Jack shook his head. “Wow, it’s been what, thirty years? And somehow you still manage to surprise me with how petty you are.”

Gabriel stood up, angrily turning towards the door. “And you still surprise me with how much of a suck-up you are.”

“Fine,” Jack said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Give me ten more days. We’ll round it out at about two weeks in London, then we’ll bring our people back. Hopefully, by then, the worst’ll be over anyway.”

Gabriel didn’t look back. He never did anymore. “Great,” he spat. “Let me know when you’re done brown-nosing. And to think I used to kiss that mouth. It’s all just full of shit now.”

“Fuck you, Gabe.”

“You wish.”

The door snapped shut behind the black-clad man, and Jack sighed sadly, falling tiredly back into his chair. His eyes burned. Their relationship had always included a healthy dose of both love and hate, but in recent months, it had been leaning rather heavily in the direction of hate.

He tried not to think too hard about the sting that left in his heart.

* * *

_Eight days later, London:_

As usual, it took quite a bit of fiddling for Angela to get out of her uniform.

Between the slightly awkward single-piece, almost dress-like design, and the clasps attached at her _sides_ of all places, she had to wonder if the person that designed the thing had ever even tried it on before choosing it as the uniform for Overwatch’s medics.

Even if hers was a bit more awkward than most, having been heavily modified to accommodate the Valkyrie suit, there were still many flaws that should have been noticed _ages_ ago.

Still, she supposed she should count herself lucky. The combat medic uniform was a lot more practical than that of a standard agent, whose ballistic plates usually ended up being much more of a hindrance than providing any actual protection. Even on the standard outfit, like the one worn regularly by Commander Morrison, the armor was practically useless for actually protecting them, and was instead just clunky and awkward.

Even worse, it just became even more useless and uncomfortable when they modified it for agents like Tracer, shrinking some plates while removing others altogether to ensure her additional mobility. Instead, she was left with only a few small plates on her legs and shoulders which, in the young woman’s own words, “hurt like a right bitch to fall on.”

So, obviously, both women were _more_ than relieved whenever they could just take it all off and relax at the end of the day.

Having undone the clasps, Angela removed her uniform piece by piece, stripping down to her undershirt. Adjusting her bra into a slightly more comfortable position, she then let herself collapse onto the bed with a quiet sigh of relief.

It had been a rather stressful day. Not much more than usual, but after nearly two weeks in London, spending almost every day splitting their time between conducting interviews and distributing emergency relief supplies, then pausing all that to receive meaningless awards and commendations for their service, it did tend to grate on the nerves a bit.

And she wasn’t the only one being affected. Lena usually exuded confidence, but it was obvious that _this level_ of publicity was _well_ out of her comfort zone. Once, Angela had even caught her giving herself a morning pep talk in front of the bathroom mirror, telling herself, “Don’t worry, I have this under control. You can do this, Lena.”

The younger woman had blushed adorably at being discovered, but Angela had just waved it off with a laugh. After all, she had been tempted to do the same herself multiple times, given how much was expected of them in these last few weeks.

It was part of the reason Angela had mixed feelings about the message she had just received from Commander Morrison. On the one hand, she was upset that they were leaving so soon: these people still needed their help, and they couldn’t just leave them to their fate. But on the other hand, she was _beyond_ sick of wasting her time with pointless interviews where she was expected to promote Overwatch to the world like some kind of walking advertisement.

If she never had to do one of those again, it would be too soon.

A giggle came from her left, and she cracked open an eye to look at Lena, who had an eyebrow raised and her arms crossed as she looked down at her from beside the bed.

“You look comfortable, love,” Lena said, amused. “Long day?”

Angela let her eye slip closed again, and let a small groan escape her lips, even as they quirked into a smile. “Ugh, you have no idea. My girlfriend and I kept getting harassed by reporters nonstop, looking for updates on the state of Overwatch, details about our relationship, all of that. I’m exhausted.”

The brunette chuckled. “Do I know it... I gotta wonder if they’ll ever get tired of the same questions over and over.”

“I doubt it. Our strike team are the faces of Overwatch now. We just saved London, _and_ they’ve managed to figure out that you and I are dating. They couldn’t _ask_ for a better story.”

“Tough deduction, that,” Lena replied, her voice brimming with amusement. “Wonder what gave us away?”

“No idea,” Angela replied with a grin. “Maybe they bribed Reinhardt with a tankard of good-quality German beer.”

The doctor opened her eyes, and watched as Lena finished placing her accelerator beside the bed, chuckling quietly as she did so. “Hmm. Must be,” the other woman replied, smirking at her as she slipped out of her grey bodysuit. “Couldn’t possibly have anything to do with that look you’re giving me.”

“Oh? What look might that be?” Angela replied innocently.

Lena’s smirk only grew wider as she responded. “The one where you’re undressing me with your eyes, love.”

“Well, everyone loves a woman in uniform,” she said, then gave a slow wink. “But I have to admit, I like it even more when you take it off.”

“Can’t rightly disagree with that,” Lena replied, checking once more that her accelerator was charging properly before laying on her back beside her girlfriend. “Your uniform doesn’t even get _close_ to doing your boobs justice.”

Angela laughed. “And you make fun of me for being obvious.”

“I never said I was any better!” Lena said with a laugh of her own, poking the blonde woman in the side as she snuggled into her and rested her head on her chest. She sighed happily as she did so. “You’re right. This is nice.”

Angela couldn’t help but smile as she looked down at the top of the young woman’s head. “It is. It’s been a long day, and destressing is important. Normally, I would take a shower, but...”

“Don’t wanna sleep on wet hair?” Lena finished, and Angela nodded.

“Especially since your hair takes so long to dry,” the blonde elaborated, and unconsciously began to comb through that ever-unkempt forest of brown on the other’s head with gentle fingertips. “It’s one of the things I love about it, though. It’s so soft and thick, sometimes I think I could run my fingers through it all day long.”

Lena laughed again and slid closer, encouraging the touch. “I wouldn’t mind. Feels nice,” she hummed. “But you seem pretty confident I’d join you for that shower of yours, love.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Probably,” the younger woman acknowledged, closing her eyes happily. “I don’t mind giving you more excuses to touch my hair. Unless you’re only dating me because so you can pet me like a cat.”

“Damn, foiled again,” Angela replied. “My entire ruse, gone. Now where am I going to get my cuddles?”

Lena rolled her eyes affectionately, then raised her head so she could plant a kiss on her girlfriend’s lips. “Cuddles _are_ pretty great, so I think we can come to some kind of arrangement. You can still touch my hair whenever you want, as long as I get to keep using my favorite pillow.”

“Hmm, maybe we can agree on something, can’t we?” she winked at the brunette, and pulled her up for another kiss. “As long as you don’t plan on falling in love with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” came the mumbled reply, mostly lost against warm lips.

Then, Lena rolled on top of Angela, sitting up so she could straddle her hips and look down at the woman beneath her. She smirked, and leaned forward a bit, so she could look into her eyes, those soft brown pools full of meaning and intent. “But, just hypothetically of course, what might it take to get you to change your mind?” she asked, licking her lips as her gaze flickered briefly down to Angela’s.

The doctor’s heartbeat jumped at the way Lena was looking at her, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Her own eyes dropped unconsciously to the other woman’s mouth, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to close the gap once more with those tempting pink lips, seductively parted to make them look as full and soft as possible.

_God, it’s been too long._

She was struck by an abrupt realization: how long _had_ it been since she and Lena had done anything more intimate than share a bed at night? Almost a month? Certainly not since arriving in London, and that was nearly two weeks ago.

 _Way_ too long.

And the rate at which the dull throb started in her lower abdomen reminded her _just how aware_ her body was of how long their unintended dry spell had been.

“I think, you’re getting close to something that could motivate me,” she replied, suddenly breathless as she felt herself grow flustered and warm in all the best ways.

It was contagious. A responding pink tinge rapidly appeared on Lena’s cheeks, and she all but tumbled into the taller woman’s embrace, their lips and tongues meeting hotly in their quickly mounting passion.

Without even realizing it, Angela had her arms around the other woman, her hands instinctively pushing her shirt up and out of the way so that they had more direct access to the smooth expanse of her back. Tugging her closer, Angela let out a quiet sigh of pleasure, which Lena quickly returned as a soft gasp at the sensation of delicate fingers trailing up and down her spine, toying with the strap of her bra whenever they passed it.

Meanwhile, the pilot’s fingers wove into shoulder-length blonde hair, tugging gently to further deepen the kiss, though given their position, with her lying on top of the other woman, it was largely unnecessary.

“It’s been far too long, love,” Lena said heatedly, pulling back a bit so she could look into Angela’s eyes, her own dark with arousal. “How far do you wanna take this?”

“As far as you want,” Angela replied, her voice already growing breathless. “I think we could both use the chance to burn off a bit of excess stress.”

“Sounds good, love. Who am I to deny the stress relieving effects of a healthy sex life?” she pulled back once more to give the taller woman a coy wink.

Angela giggled and pulled her into another kiss, even more fervent than before, drawing another soft gasp from both. Lena’s shirt was lifted over her head as they made out, only to be tossed somewhere unknown, and her hips began to rock slowly, searching for friction to appease the growing ache between her legs. They kissed again, fanning the flames of heat building between them.

And Lena’s phone began to ring.

“What the hell?” she growled, breaking the kiss to glare at the offending device. “I swear, if it’s the commander again…”

Angela chuckled, letting the other woman take a few moments to get her breathing back under control before gently nudging her in the direction of her phone. “Just try not to say anything that’ll get you fired, Lena. I rather enjoy working with you,” she said teasingly.

“Don’t count on it,” came the barely-audible mumbled reply. “Man’s got the worst bloody timing, I swear.”

Still straddling Angela’s waist, she leaned over toward the bedside table, grabbing the wailing device in her hand before sitting upright once again. “Never mind, love, it’s Emily. She wants to video call.”

The blonde hummed, placing her hands back on Lena’s hips and giving a small tug, encouraging them into a soft grinding motion once again. “Tell her you’re busy.”

It had the intended effect, immediately and completely distracting the pilot, whose flushed cheeks grew a shade darker as she instantly forgot about the incoming call. Angela shifted herself on the bed, maneuvering beneath Lena so that she could move her thigh just a tiny amount…

Lena let out a rough moan, grinding a little harder into Angela’s hips as they found a _particularly_ good angle. There was a quiet thud as the phone dropped to the bedsheets beside them, its ringer going silent as the call timed out, but neither woman even noticed. Even through layers of clothing, Angela could feel Lena nearly burning up, her core providing _just the right_ friction as it rocked against her own.

But suddenly, irritatingly, there it was again, that intrusive song, blaring away from the sheets right beside Angela’s ear.

“Shit,” she cursed, pushing the phone away before she could go deaf.

Lena sighed, and reluctantly pulled herself from Angela’s lap, swiping the phone into her hand. “Bloody hell, she’s relentless. Probably figured out what we’re doing, and now she’ll never leave us alone. I would just turn it off, but knowing her, she’ll probably just show up at the door instead.”

Angela shrugged, unable to help the chuckle that escaped her lips in spite of the uncomfortably wet feeling between her legs, making an effort to tamp down that tight knot of sexual frustration that had returned with a vengeance when it realized it was not about to be relieved any time soon. “What are best friends for? If not to completely ignore the sock on your doorknob and walk right in anyway?”

“Sock on your doorknob?” Lena inquired as she looked around for her shirt.

“An old idiom McCree taught me. I would guess it started in America maybe… 100 years ago? Apparently, college students used to hang a sock on their doorknob to warn their roommate not to come in while they were having sex.”

“Yeah, that’d never work on Emily,” Lena giggled, pulling her shirt over her head as Angela did her best to smooth down her own appearance. “She’d walk in on purpose just to embarrass us.”

“Can’t blame her,” Angela flirted. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“And you’re cute when you’re trying to make yourself look like you aren’t _really_ bloody turned on,” the brunette shot back, smirking as she gave Angela’s still-disheveled hair and flushed cheeks a pointed look.

“I _am_ really bloody turned on,” Angela groaned. “And my hair’s as good as it’s going to get, so answer that call already. The sooner you do, the sooner we can go back to making out.”

Lena laughed again, and adjusted a bit of her girlfriend’s hair herself before pressing the button to answer the call, positioning the phone so they were both in view of the camera as Emily’s grinning face appeared on the screen.

“Yo! Tracer and Mercy! What’s happenin’?” she asked in a chipper voice, then paused dramatically, her eyes widening in mock-innocence before adding, “Oh… Am I interrupting something?”

The pilot sighed, rolling her eyes in exasperation, even as her face, despite her best efforts, broke into a smile at the sight of her best friend. “You know, love, you’re a great actress and all, but I know you _way_ too well for that to work on me.”

Emily shrugged, giggling. “Okay, fine, I had my suspicions… But you’re, like, _easily_ the hottest two women I’ve ever met. Sue me for bein’ just a little turned on knowin’ you two were havin’ fun together.”

Lena rolled her eyes again, laughing as she did so. “Sorry to disappoint your voyeur kink, Em.”

The redhead smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Hardly. You two are _awful_ at hidin’ how bad you want each other. Especially right now. Cor, makes me wonder if some of these people even bothered to look at how you act around each other _once_ before makin’ up articles about you.”

“What do you mean?” Angela asked, her mild annoyance at their friend’s behavior rapidly disappearing in the face of her curiosity.

“You haven’t heard? Apparently, there’s someone goin’ all over the internet, tryin’ to prove how you two ‘probably aren’t actually gay, and are just pretendin’ for the attention.’ Story was even picked up by some of the tabloids.” The other two women giggled, and she continued in a whisper, her voice conspiratorial. “I even heard you two were only datin’ so you could hide your boy-toys on the side.”

They laughed again, and after a few moments, the redhead joined in. “Bloody hell,” Lena replied once her chuckles had subsided. “It’s gonna take some getting used to, this being famous thing, isn’t it?”

“Damn right,” Emily replied with a snort. “Some of the people I work with every day get their own crazy theories ‘bout them now and then. Now you two are just that times a hundred.”

“What I don’t understand,” Angela said thoughtfully. “Is why they would even consider that. Not that I care much what they think, but if this really were just for show, wouldn’t we be flaunting our relationship every chance we got?”

“Don’t try to understand it,” came the amused reply. “Just roll with it. Make a statement if it bothers you, don’t say anythin’ if it doesn’t. That sorta thing. People do it all the time.”

Lena put on a look of shock and scoffed sarcastically. “Wait, so you’re telling me that new DJ bloke from Brazil, Lúcio, _isn’t_ actually a robot alien planning to take over the Earth with the music of the devil? I had no idea!”

Angela shook her head mock-disappointedly and made an unhappy tsking sound. “And here I was with my Ouija board and pentagrams all ready to send him back to the shadow realm. That’s what you get for being prepared, I suppose.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Wow, last time I give you any helpful advice. You two can be twin pains in my arse together.”

“Karma’s a bitch, love,” the pilot said with a grin, and gave her girlfriend a high-five.

“Guess I walked right into that one,” she acknowledged wryly. “’Sides, not like there’s much for you lot to clear up anyhow. You two are so obvious, I don’t think you’d pass as straight for more than two seconds.”

The other two laughed, and Angela asked, “Are we really _that_ obvious?”

“Fuck yeah, you are. I mean, you could _probably_ pretend for a bit if you tried, Angela,” Emily replied, tilting her head as she looked over the blonde woman. “You’ve got that demure, feminine doctor look to you. You’d just have to stop your eyes from goin’ all soft and lovey whenever Lena so much as looks at you. Or smiles. Or does pretty much anythin’, really.”

“Do I do that?” the blonde asked, glancing over at Lena for confirmation. As she did so, however, she realized she was probably making the very heart-eyes Emily had just mentioned, which made her blush as she looked quickly away.

“You totally do,” came the laughing reply. “But Lena, on the other hand, she’s way too gay even for that. A lost cause if I ever saw one.”

“Oi, what makes you say that? I could pretend to be straight. It can’t be that hard!”

Emily raised both eyebrows, laughing heartily. “Lena, darling, remember in high school, that time you were asked to dinner and a movie by that guy in our class, and you didn’t even realize he meant for it to be a date?”

A faint blush colored Lena’s cheeks as she replied, “How was I supposed to know?!”

Emily looked at her with an almost pitying expression. “He asked you to dinner and a movie.”

The other woman rolled her eyes. “I told you, I thought he meant as friends.”

“And if a girl had asked you the same thing, would you still think she meant it as ‘just friends’?”

“Of course not, but that’s different…” Lena replied immediately, then trailed off as Emily sat back, gesturing briefly with her hands before crossing her arms, as if to say, ‘see what I mean?’

The brunette huffed, feigning indignance with a raised eyebrow. “Can’t believe I’m getting teased about being gay by my ex-girlfriend. Feel like there’s a bit of hypocrisy going on here. Especially ‘cause if I remember properly, back then you were crushing on the lead singer of my favorite band just as much as I was.”

“Hmm… You got me there,” the redhead replied, then her lips curled into a smirk. “But now that you mention her, I’m startin’ to think you have a type.”

Angela looked at her curiously, and the other woman returned her gaze with a big, exaggerated wink. “Blonde hair, blue eyes, cute as hell, plenty of feminine charm, not to mention a voice that hits you in _all_ the right places…”

Lena seemed about to say something, probably to chastise her ex for flirting so shamelessly with her girlfriend, but Angela replied faster, her eyebrows raised skeptically. “Not that I don’t appreciate the compliment, but you do _not_ want to hear me sing.”

Emily waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t need to. Just talkin’ is plenty attractive already. It’s the accent I think.”

She was silent for a moment in surprise. She had never heard someone call her voice attractive before, so she glanced at Lena for confirmation, only to find the other woman with a faint blush on her cheeks. “I do love your voice, Angie,” she admitted.

“Oh?” Angela replied, allowing herself to momentarily forget the video call, in favor of letting her words become as silky and seductive as she knew how. “Anything else you forgot to tell me you love about me?”

“Fishing for compliments, are we?” Lena flirted back, her eyes betraying her by dropping to her girlfriend’s lips. “It’s not gonna work, you know.”

She laid a hand on Lena’s upper thigh, and the younger woman’s eyes slipped closed momentarily as the touch sent a shiver through her body. “So now it’s my turn to persuade you to change your mind?”

“You can try, but you should know I’m not done with you yet either.”

Angela leaned slightly forward. “I look forward to it.”

“Well,” Emily interrupted, clapping her hands together and flashing them a grin when they both glared at her for interfering with their attempts to seduce each other. “As much as I’d love to watch you put your anatomy degree to work, I’ve got a question for you two.”

The doctor figured it was probably useless to mention that her degree wasn’t actually in anatomy, not specifically at least, so instead, she sighed in response, realizing that she and Lena were probably not going to be getting any time to themselves tonight after all. “Go ahead,” she muttered.

She must have been seeing things. Emily actually looked a bit… uncertain? Suddenly, Angela felt guilty for her momentary annoyance, and it was replaced by a bit of concern as she regarded the red-haired woman fiddling with her necklace. “On a serious note, loves, I wasn’t just callin’ you to annoy you. I can let you get back to your business, if you want, we can talk later, but I actually wanted to ask you about somethin’ weird happenin’ at work. I was wonderin’ if maybe you could help me?”

Angela and Lena exchanged a glance, and in a heartbeat, they reached the same conclusion. In the end, as much as they teased and annoyed each other, Emily was their friend, after all, and if she needed help, they would help her. Private time could wait.

“So there’s this guy I keep bumpin’ into at work. Seems like he’s always wearin’ the same outfit, too. Suit, duffle bag, sunglasses, the whole works. Every few weeks or so, I see him when I’m doin’ my daily errands, and he always goes into the same room. And there’s guards outside, so I never get a proper look, but I swear I saw the Ambassador to the UN in there once. Which is weird enough, ‘cause I work at the mayor’s office, not Parliament, so why is he there? And every time, this bloke takes the duffle bag in, then he comes out without it.”

Emily paused, glancing between the looks of surprise on other two women’s faces before continuing. “I know I’m just an intern, so it’s not really my job to say somethin’ looks suspicious, but this bloke is _sketchy._ Like proper, ‘don’t run into him alone in an alley,’ sketchy. What am I supposed to do?”

Both the blonde and the brunette turned to each other, stunned by the bombshell their friend had just dropped.

Because seriously, how on Earth do you respond to that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey loves! It's been a while...  
> I feel like I'm apologizing every other chapter for being late, but I really am sorry. Life's been crazy, and I was at a bit of a loss for this chapter since my head was full of ideas for another story I'm writing (which I'm still working on, and I'll post when I'm done with this one).  
> Longer chapters like these take a bit longer to write (especially when I rewrite them a billion times), so I might be going back to some slightly shorter ones in the future, just to keep updates more consistent.
> 
> Anyway, it looks like Lena and Angela aren't quite out of the woods yet, and there's still some crazy stuff going down! Let me know if you enjoyed this chapter, have any suggestions, or even if you just wanna say hi :)  
> And of course, thanks for the comments and kudos everyone's left so far! It really does mean the world to me!


	16. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter:  
> Towards the end of the first part, there is a brief description of walking in on someone having sex. It's short, but just so you know.

_Two days later, somewhere over eastern France:_

“I mean it, Emily,” Angela said, crossing her arms and putting on her best disdainful glare as she looked at the screen propped up against her knees. “Lena and I aren’t there to keep you from getting yourself into trouble anymore, and I think spying on the UN Ambassador sounds a _bit_ like doing just that.”

“Come _on,_ Angela,” the redhead replied with a rebellious pout. “This bloke is up to somethin’, I swear.”

“And I believe you,” she agreed. _“Of_ _course,_ you can keep an eye out, but sneaking into his office might be just a _little_ too far.”

“It’s not even _his_ office,” Emily countered, looking slightly too offended for her protests to be fully serious. “I’d just hop in, take a quick peek for anythin’ suspicious, and be back out again before anyone even noticed I was there.”

“You wanted to tape a microphone under his desk, love,” Lena pointed out, then giggled at the look of betrayal that appeared on the other woman’s face.

“Nobody’d know it was me, even if they did find it,” Emily tried, but at the unconvinced yet amused look on both her friends’ faces, her shoulders slumped as she gave up. “You two are no fun,” she muttered. “Emily Bond had such a nice ring to it.”

“Emily Bond?” Angela laughed.

“Of course,” she replied, tossing her long red hair over her shoulder in a practiced motion, smirking as she blew the smoke from the end of her finger pistol. “If I’ve learned anythin’ from movies, it’s that girls love sexy spies.”

Angela felt more than heard the snort of laughter from the woman tucked into her side, and she turned to see Lena shaking her head, as if berating herself for not having seen this coming, “You never change, Em.”

Emily crossed her arms, arranging her expression into that of a mock-pout. “Easy for you to say. Runnin’ off to HQ with your girlfriend and leavin’ me without my wingwomen. A girl’s gotta make do with what she has.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “So, completely ignoring the fact that your plan to get someone to go home with you for the night is apparently to go around bragging that you hid a microphone in the ambassador’s office and hope that doesn’t end up getting you arrested… Why are we supposed to be your wingwomen?”

“Don’t see why not,” Emily replied. “What’s better than a recommendation from two women that haven’t left the front page in two weeks?! Would’ve made datin’ _so much_ easier, I’ll tell you, but now I guess I’ll just have to wait ‘til you two come and visit… And even though I _know_ you’d only actually help me for _maybe_ two drinks ‘fore one of you ends up on the other’s lap with your tongue down her throat, you’re both, like, _ridiculously_ hot, so anyone even remotely turned on by that’ll end up chattin’ me up instead when they notice I’m available. You two get to make out, and I get to flirt with anyone that ends up bouncin’ off of that. Win, win. Plan’s flawless.”

Angela rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “I’m starting to think we should be warning them about you, not helping you.”

Lena laughed. “No one’s safe from her, love. Right menace, she is.”

“I’m not _that_ bad!” Emily denied, sticking her tongue out at them. “But what can I say? Flirting’s fun, even when you don’t mean anythin’ by it.”

Lena raised an eyebrow skeptically, gesturing with her hands as if to say, ‘see what I mean?’

Seeing her reaction, Emily’s face transformed into a wide grin, and she winked dramatically. “And you never know, I might find someone I actually _do_ wanna take home. And then you two really couldn’t complain, ‘cause you’d finally be able to get each other off with no interruptions, ‘cause I’d be gettin’ off too.”

Angela groaned and rolled her eyes again. “Do you seriously plan on interrupting us every chance you get?”

“Nah, not really. I know how Lena gets when she’s sexually frustrated,” came the giggled reply, and as Lena huffed the expected, slightly indignant response, the doctor felt herself let out a small breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Of course, _logically,_ she _should_ have had no reason to be worried either way: they were going to be living almost 800 kilometers apart, so there should have been no way for Emily to know when things were getting intimate between herself and Lena.

But some best friends just had… a sixth sense of sorts, somehow knowing exactly when to best embarrass each other, even unintentionally. It had been that way with herself and Amélie, she thought, feeling a brief throb of sadness at the memory of her own best friend. Their encounters had been much less intentionally embarrassing, of course, but they had still walked in on each other _way_ more times than either of them would have wanted.

Whether it was Amélie unlocking the door to Angela’s room with a bottle of wine in hand and a smile on her face, only to find the doctor with her head locked between the legs of her girlfriend of the time, whose loud moans made sure that Amélie knew _exactly_ what she was doing down there. Or when Angela had gone for a surprise visit to her friend’s chateau, only to find Amélie and her husband ‘enjoying each other’s company’ way more than she had _ever_ wanted to imagine. She could have gone her entire life without seeing Gérard like that, thank you very much.

But as embarrassing as _that_ had been, then there was Amélie, and well… Angela had never been exactly blind to her friend’s attractiveness. And while noticing the doctor’s presence had done _wonders_ for Amélie’s slight exhibitionism kink, bringing her to an abrupt, _unbelievably_ intense climax the moment their eyes met, it hadn’t been _nearly_ as nice for Angela, who was left to slip out of the room with burning cheeks, swallowing down a sudden, guilty surge of attraction toward her best friend.

So… yeah. If Angela knew anything about best friends, it was that they had an _uncanny_ ability to embarrass each other. So she was glad Emily wasn’t planning to keep trying to interrupt her private time with Lena, because she had little doubt she would manage it.

Speaking of which… it wasn’t too late in the day yet… so if Morrison’s debriefing didn’t take too long…

Angela felt a blush trying to make its way onto her cheeks, which she quickly stifled. Definitely an idea to revisit later, though. But for now, she was being shaken out of her thoughts by the digitized voice of the transport pilot, warning them over the intercom to prepare for landing.

“Gotta go, love,” Lena was saying. “‘Fasten your seatbelts’ and all that. I’ll call you back sometime soon, though. Tomorrow maybe?”

“Sounds brilliant, Lena,” Emily replied, a warm smile on her face. “See you then.”

“Bye, Emily,” Angela said, waggling her fingers in farewell, to which the redhead replied in kind.

The screen went dark as the call disconnected, and Tracer and Mercy smiled at each other, sharing a brief peck on the lips before getting to their feet.

“Shall we?” Lena said, offering her hand to the taller woman.

Angela accepted, and the two women made their way into the main room of the transport to join Torbjörn and Reinhardt, who already had their seatbelts fastened as the transport began its descent through the clouds.

And as they took their seats, belts clicking as they secured themselves in place, the stunning alpine landscape surrounding the Overwatch Headquarters came into view, the familiar soaring concrete buildings appearing through the mist as they rounded a snowcapped peak.

They were home.

* * *

For what felt like the millionth time that day, Lena felt herself breaking into a smile.

That morning, she had awoken feeling almost somber, knowing it would be her last day in London for the foreseeable future. Knowing that she would be leaving her best friend alone, even though the city around her was still recovering from the world’s largest organized rebellion since the Omnic Crisis.

But it was shaping up to be one of the best days in Lena’s life.

Because here she was: standing in front of Commander Jack Morrison, finally about to receive an official assignment with _Overwatch._ That’s right… Lena Oxton… a poor little orphan from the streets of King’s Row… was about to be enlisted into the world’s largest crimefighting organization. And she wasn’t just a cadet sporting a last-minute field promotion anymore. She was going to be a _proper agent._ With her own codename and everything.

“Well done, all of you,” Lena heard the commander saying, the words only barely distinguishable through the buzzing of excitement in her brain.

London was safe. They had won.

The pride washed through her, and for a few moments, she let herself ride the high that came along with it. There was a certain feeling of… invincibility… that came with their arrival back in Switzerland, like they had been to the pits of hell and back, surviving with hardly a scratch on them.

And in a way, they had. It _was_ called the Underworld, after all.

But against all odds, she and Angela and Torbjörn and Reinhardt had fought their way through it all, defeating every enemy that stood in their way, and leaving Null Sector and its supporters reeling in the aftermath of their crushing defeat.

Of course, Lena wasn’t naïve enough to think the world had been saved by this single victory. Their enemies were still out there. Not just Null Sector, but Talon and human-supremacist groups and international terrorists and who knows who else… all ready to bring a storm of violence and destruction and despair to a world that could have been _so close_ to peace.

But for now, they had won. They had fought back against those trying to bring chaos to the world, and they had _won._ And even if the peace they brought only lasted but a moment, the sense of achievement and pride that came with it was… _intoxicating._

It hadn’t really sunk in before, but now, standing before the head of the organization she had hero-worshipped since childhood, it all hit her at once. It felt like she was _glowing._

Maybe she really _was_ as good as everyone said. A team of just _four,_ alone in London against immeasurable odds, had pulled off the nearly-impossible. And not once had she felt like a hindrance, except when her lack of sleep and the overuse of her abilities had left her all but sleeping on her feet by the end of their mission. If anything, she’d been a crucial asset, keeping their flanks clear, dealing with dangerous threats, and dishing out justice to Null Sector’s minions just as effectively as any one of Overwatch’s other star agents.

Well, if that thought didn’t give her a boost of confidence…

And while she still wasn’t sure she loved the international attention that came with it, she couldn’t deny, being asked to appear in advertisements and magazine-cover photoshoots did feel good, in a strange sort of way. Like she really had accomplished something worthwhile.

It was enough to leave anyone feeling proud of themselves.

Speaking of which, the commander was turning to her, so with some effort, she calmed her hyperactive brain enough that she could actually pay attention.

“Cadet,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand. “I think to say you’ve surpassed everyone’s expectations would be a gross understatement. So, without dumping all the pointless words on you that I’m sure you’ve heard a hundred times by now, I’ll be officially promoting you to the rank of senior field agent, enlisted into active duty effective immediately. With a bit more experience, you have the potential to be the very best of us, Tracer.”

Lena’s eyes went wide at his words, and she felt her heart skip a beat. For a moment, she even wondered if she had heard correctly, or if there was some kind of mistake. “Th… thank you, sir,” she stuttered in response. _Of course,_ she’d been expecting to be officially enlisted. But a _senior_ agent? Assigned to the most capable strike teams and given the most important missions?

It was like a dream come true. Her girlfriend pulling her into a hug at the news, eyes moist with tears of pride. Her teammates, Reinhardt and Torbjörn, laughing and clapping her on the back, their words of congratulations all but lost amidst the ringing in her ears.

She picked up the insignia from its box. _Her_ badge. And she traced the simple metallic design with one finger.

Maybe the war wasn’t over…

But she was more than ready to keep fighting it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I may have gotten carried away writing the next chapter, where Lena and Angela finally get a chance spend some time together again. It's been a little too long for them, I think, and writing sex scenes can be kind of fun once you start to get the hang of it. Unfortunately, I realized I had a few things to wrap up before then, so this chapter just sort of ended up being a few odds and ends and not particularly well-written. Sorry about that, loves, promise the next one will be better!


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